Damaged Goods
by demi-kaijuu
Summary: Full Summary inside - Can a pair of damaged goods ever fix each other or will they irreparably destroy themselves in the process? Sakura doesn't trust just anyone, especially people as damaged as her, Syaoran is your classic bad boy with a rough background. When the two of them meet sparks fly and tempers fray, but with emotions running high how long will they stay just friends?
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Sakura doesn't trust just anyone, especially people as damaged as her. She's managed to get a decent job, her own place and for the first time in years it seems like there is light at the end of the tunnel. But that all gets thrown on its head when she finds herself becoming friends with someone as messed up as she is. Syaoran is your classic bad boy with a rough background. Throw in that he looks like a model and the girls can't resist the temptation of being the one to tame him. But he's not so easily tied down to one person.  
When the two of them meet sparks fly and tempers fray, but somehow against all odds they manage to forge a tenuous friendship that always ends up with them at each others throats. With tempers running hot, it's only inevitable that at some point they end up being more than just friends.  
Can a pair of damaged goods ever end up fixing each other or will they irreparably destroy each other in the process?

AN:  
Couple of pointers  
1)Sakura and Tomoyo are both 22  
2)Syaoran and Eriol are both 25  
3) There are no clow cards or magic, its an AU fic. Sakura and Syaoran have never met before

**Damaged Goods**

**Chapter One**

_**Sakura**_

There are things in life I really miss, hot showers, a decent meal, loving parents. But I think out of everything, the thing I miss the most is sleep. I would kill for eight hours uninterrupted sleep, hell I would settle for 6 hours uninterrupted sleep. But that is a pipe dream. Sleep is not something that comes easy to those of us that are plagued by nightmarish visions of our past.

The first thing I'm aware of is that any part of my body not buried under the blankets is cold. Great, this means the boiler has packed in. Again. So the chances of me having a hot shower have now decreased to fuck all. Then I notice the persistent buzzing of my cell, which I know is buried somewhere in the bed. Groping around under the pillows, I eventually find and extract it, but of course, by now the person ringing me has given up and I'm not in the mood to call anyone back at this godforsaken hour. Thankful for small mercies I bury my head deeper into the pillows, intent on chasing my pipe dream for some sleep. I can feel myself starting to drop off into a slight doze when my phone vibrates to life in my hand. The sudden movement makes me jump and I force myself to open my eyes and peer blearily at the screen so I can figure out who it is I'll be shouting at for waking me so early on a rare weekend off.

"Eriol, I swear to god your head better be on fire or something for you to be calling me at 8am on my first Saturday off in 5 weeks," I rasp down the phone, fully aware that I sound like I've just swallowed a handful of broken glass.

"Wakey Wakey, eggs and bakey," he sings down the phone, laughing by way of a greeting. "This is your wakeup call that you made me promise to give you so you would have enough time to get up and make yourself look somewhat presentable."

I groan at his overly cheerful greeting, wondering why I had to choose such a cheerful morning person to be my friend. "That's today? Bugger I thought it was next weekend."

"You're not flaking out on me are you Sakura?" Eriol questions, starting to sound a little stressed out. "Please tell me you've not made any plans cause me and Tomoyo really need your help today."

My early morning bitch reels her claws in, Eriols worried tone thawing some of the frosty demeanour that I've woken up with. "Stop stressing, I'll be there just like I promised."

The relief in his sigh is almost palatable and I feel bad for making him doubt my commitment to the massive autumn picnic and music event he's planned to raise funds for the local children's home. "Thank you Sakura, you're a star. And on that note I'll leave you to drag your lazy ass out of bed. You do know where you're going don't you?"

I roll my eyes at him even though he can't see me. "I'm not a complete moron; I know where I'm going. Now get off the phone so I can go and pour the coffee jar down my throat." I snap light-heartedly as he laughs at my lack of morning skills.

"Ok baby girl, I'll leave you to it. See you in a bit."

He hangs up and I find myself fighting not to snuggle deeper into my bed and go back to dozing. Bracing myself for what I know is going to be breathtakingly cold; I whip the blankets off me, shivering as the cold air hits my bare legs. Rummaging around the bottom of the bed I unearth an old woolly jumper and a pair of sweats that I throw on over my shorts and tank top pyjamas.

I really need to invest in some better pyjamas, especially considering I live in what I consider to be an igloo, even in late September the place is like an ice box. But that's something I'll worry about later. Right now I need coffee, strong coffee, and lots of it.

I hoist myself out of bed and wander into the kitchen, wincing as my bare feet make contact with the cold linoleum. Lighting the gas under the kettle I heap three teaspoons of coffee in the only mug I own and hoist myself up on the worktop. I swing my legs through the frigid air, mentally running through what I need to do before I leave the house and wonder if I can stomach another cold shower. The kettle starts screaming at me, like a small child demanding attention and my wandering thoughts are broken by my overwhelming need for caffeine and sugar.

Slurping my coffee, and burning off the top couple of layers of my tongue, I drag myself into the bathroom, purposefully avoiding looking in the mirror until after I have showered. There is no way I can face looking at the birds nest planted on top of my head until after I've tamed it with half a bottle of conditioner. I hate my hair, it is thick, unruly and slightly wavy, not enough to be curly but enough to be a pain in my ass. Turning the shower on I offer up a prayer to every deity in existence that there is hot water and I'm rewarded with a lukewarm trickle, which is an improvement on the freezing cold spray that I've suffered with for the last four days. I add shouting at my landlord until he fixes the boiler to my rapidly growing list of things to do as I climb into the shower and attempt to wash the worst of yesterdays grease from my skin.

Twenty minutes later and as clean as I am going to get short of taking a Brillo pad to my skin I assess the damage in the mirror. It is official; I look like I have been hit by a bus and then dragged through a hedge backwards. There are dark shadows under my eyes that no amount of concealer is going to cover and my hair looks like a family of raccoons have bedded down for the winter. Squinting in the poky bathroom mirror, I take stock of what I can work with, my bright green eyes looking critically at the reflection staring back at me.

Tackling the shadows under my eyes with concealer in a lame attempt to cover up my lack of sleep I curse my pale skin. I'm so fair that my skin shade sits somewhere in the 'so fair it burns at the hint of sun' colouring. It makes my hiding the dark shadows difficult, especially when I want to avoid looking like a life a five year old attacked my face with crayola. Not an easy task especially when my make-up comes from the value range at the drug store. I give up after I stab myself in the eye several times in an attempt to apply both eyeliner and mascara - it will just have to do for today.

Now to tackle my biggest inconvenience in life - my hair. I make a half assed attempt to brush it and dry it, but my patience snaps after about 5 seconds of my hair doing what it wants and I just throw it up in a messy bun at the back of my head. Somehow, with a few escaping tendrils it somehow manages to look like I have spent hours artistically arranging it.

I fiddle with my necklace, an old locket that belonged to my grandmother as I review my appearance. I have to admit, with the exception of the thick, ridged scars cover my arms I don't look too bad. I run my fingers over the damaged skin, feeling the puckered texture that is now as familiar as any other part of my body. If there was one thing I could change, it would be the constant reminders that are etched into my skin.

I have to stop myself from over thinking this, I have too much to do, and wandering down memory lane this early on Saturday morning is a sure way to send my head west. One last look in the mirror and I'm confident that Eriol's girlfriend, Tomoyo, will appreciate the fact that I've made an effort. I leave the bathroom, the rest of the house seeming arctic in comparison to the steamy bathroom and I swear I can see my own breath vaporising in front of my eyes.

I manage to find a pair of denim shorts and team them with a long sleeved light-weight jumper, I'm pretty sure that all the soccer mom's don't want me terrifying their precious offspring with my gruesome scars and I'd rather take boiling to death over the pitiful stares and hushed whispers. Gathering all the things I think I might need to survive an afternoon of being nice I manage to get out the house on time. I throw my stuff in the car and crank the radio up. Muse are singing about a resistance and I let the music wash over me as I cruise down the road to the large open park behind the children's home. Sure I could have walked down, probably would have taken about 15 minutes, but there is no way I am walking back through my neck of the woods late at night when this is all over. That is just asking for trouble and I am making a conscious effort to keep my nose well out of any trouble.

I pull up, park next to Eriol's truck glancing up at the clean sky, grateful that we've got a nice day for the picnic even though I fear that by the end of it I'll probably be in need of some therapy.

A thump on the roof of the car causes me to jump, my heart racing at the sudden, unexpected noise. Looking out the window I can see Eriol, grinning at me insanely, his dark blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

"You're an ass." I shout, my voice bouncing off the interior of the car.

He shrugs at me as he opens the door. "Come on Sakura, when was the last time I managed to make you jump."

"Try never." I raise my eyebrow at me and try to look angry.

"You look like an angry kitten pulling that face at me." He grabs my outstretched hand and hauls me out of the car, pulling me into a massive bear hug. Eriol is one of the few people that I will let touch me and he takes a shameless amount of advantage over it. "Come on, Tomoyo looks like she's about to have a nervous breakdown, I've never seen her so ruffled."

"You're enjoying it a little aren't you?"

"You bet you, nothing quite like watching my princess getting angry at other people."

"You're sick in the head, you know that right?"

* * *

Sakura dragged her feet as she entered the park, a wave of memories washing over her from her past here at the home. Looking around she took in the hive of activity that surrounded her. People were setting up stalls to sell their wares, there were picnic blankets spread out haphazardly and children from the centre running around and getting under everyone else's feet. She spotted Tomoyo, unsurprisingly in the middle of a group of people, issuing orders and making sure everything was under control.

Tomoyo flashed Sakura a grin and shouted above the general hub-bub that surrounded her. "If you can grab all the raffle tickets and go set up near the main entrance. There should be a table and stuff over there already, I'll send Eriol and one of his friends over to give you a hand."

Sakura nodded in agreement, rolling her eyes as Eriol leant in for a kiss off his ridiculously busy girlfriend. Tomoyo was high-school cheerleader gorgeous, all long limbs and perfect skin, beautiful raven black hair that fell all the way down her back and piercing amethyst eyes that could see past everything. There were a hundred other things she could be doing on a Saturday, but instead she was here. Slumming it with two ex-care kids and taking control of a situation that would probably be on its ass if it were not for her involvement.

Sakura made her way over to the main gate to get set up, grateful that table was already standing and wouldn't require her non-existent DIY skills to construct it. Rolling her eyes at the mess of raffle prizes stacked haphazardly on another table she busied herself with getting everything out of it's plastic wrapping and set up behind her table where she would be selling raffle tickets for the day. Grinning she picked up an oversized stuffed toy, attempting to balance it at the back of the table, out of reach of small hands that would undoubtedly want to grab it an drag it away.

"Sakura," Tomoyo yelled, dragging some poor unsuspecting bloke behind her. "This is Syaoran, he's one of Eriol's mates that been conned into manning the raffle with you."

Tomoyo moved out of the way and when he came into view Sakura had to force herself not to gape at him like some brainless teenager.

Syaoran was the definition of tall, dark, handsome and probably a little dangerous. He was tall and well built, his muscles defined but not chunky. His hair was light brown and fell across his forehead in a messy style that looked like he's just dragged himself out of bed. He had a chiselled jaw and amber eyes and Sakura was convinced that he could burn her clothes off just looking at them. Offering a half hearted wave she turned around and busied herself with sorting out the prizes, chiding herself for letting him put her on edge.

Sakura turned round to face both Tomoyo and Syaoran, only to find that Tomoyo had already dragged him off, probably looking for Eriol. Sakura shook her head ruefully, there was a reason she stayed away from anyone that she may spawn any sort of intimate feeling. And given that a two second interaction with Syaoran had turned her into a gawping moron she was beginning to regret saying that she would help out.

She sat down, putting her converse clad feet up on the seat next to her and turned her face to the weak autumn sun that was streaming through the trees. God bless Tomoyo for putting her somewhere where she would be out of direct sunlight otherwise she would end up burnt to a crisp by the end of the day.

Her eyes were closed when a deep voice cut through her daydreaming. "You look like you're bored." Sakura didn't even have to turn round to know that the voice had to belong to Syaoran, it was deep and sinful, like hot toffee sauce on an ice cream sundae.

"That's because I am." Sakura stated, trying to be flippant with the intention of driving him away. She tried to make herself sound bored and uninterested, but it came out more like a squeak. 'Great, four words into the conversation and he probably thinks I am some kind of squeaky airhead.' She thought to herself.

He chuckles at her sarcastic response, his laugh low and gravelly. "You don't strike me as a morning person."

Sakura looked up him, her green eyes clashing with his firey amber ones. Wiggling her toes in her shoes she tried in vain to stop herself from blushing, wishing that the old wives tale actually worked. Given the heat she could feel spreading across her cheeks she knew that it hadn't, but she refused to break eye contact with him. She wouldn't be viewed as some simpering Barbie that was going to throw herself at his feet and beg him to let her worship him.

Pretty sure she was full out death-staring him she waited for him to back down and step back, and was a little shocked when he didn't budge. Normally her glare was enough to send grown men whimpering back to the mothers, their tails firmly between their legs, but then again he did strike her as a stubborn, pig-headed alpha male. Backing down because a girl half your size is staring you down would be ego bruising.

"Ah, Sakura, I see you've met Syaoran," Eriol inteupts, a worried look crossing his face as he caught her stormy glare. "He's going to be spending the day with you selling the raffle tickets, so you two will get the pleasure of each other company." He grimaced as he said that, catching the arctic expression that was still plastered on Sakura's face.

"I'm sure it will be akin to having my teeth pulled." Sakura sniped in my sweetest voice.

Eriol had the decency to look slightly ashamed at her obvious hostility. Syaoran on the other hand just smiled sweetly back at Sakura, "I'm sure I can make our time together slightly more enjoyable than a trip to the dentist."

"Long as you don't attempt to put anything in my mouth, I'm sure we'll get along just fine." She replied with a sickly sweet smile.

"Sakura!"Eriol admonished a warning tone in his voice. "Please play nice! I've known Syaoran a long time and he's a good friend so will your snarky inner bitch behave herself?"

Sakura pulled Eriol to one side, her expression conveying her issues with being left alone with someone she barely knew for an extended period of time. She was starting to feel tired and frustrated, and it was less than an hour into the day. Eriol looked at her critically, his eyes picking up the faint tells that she was uncomfortable.

"Are you OK Sakura?" He asks the concern evident on his face. "I know you don't know Syaoran, but I wouldn't have put him with you unless I knew you would be OK. It's a lot to ask but I need you to trust me on this, he won't hurt you."

Sakura cringed, feeling irrationally emotional. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I'm just really tired and some insensitive asshole woke me up early this morning."

Eriol cracked a grin at Sakura's version of an olive branch and gathered her into a tight hug. "I know baby girl, but we're both here to give our support to the foundation that probably saved our lives. That's why Syaoran is here too."

Sakura digested Eriol's words and suddenly realised why Syaoran hadn't backed down during their little stand-off. There were three types of children in foster care. The bullies. The children that refuse to look the bullies in the eyes for fear of reproach. And the ones that stare the bullies down and get into a full-blown brawl just because they can. Sakura knew fine well that she fell into the latter category and guessed that Syaoran probably fell in that category as well.

"Ok, snarky inner bitch will take a vacation for the day, but this is a one day only deal," She mumble into Eriol's jacket. "So don't come crying to me tomorrow when she's back with a vengeance!"

Eriol laughed, his chest rumbling against her cheek. "I know, and tomorrow I will spend all day appeasing her with chocolate biscuits and coffee to make up for today. Now I better go and help Tomoyo before she has a meltdown of nuclear proportions" He dropped a kiss on Sakura's forehead before dragging Syaoran to one side for a quick chat. Sakura strained her ears, trying to eavesdrop but couldn't pick anything up over the general buzz that was building in the park.

She perched on the edge of the chair and attempted to make herself comfortable, waiting for the first wave of people to arrive. The influx of people was steady, and between the two of them they managed to sell a lot of raffle tickets, as well as take a huge number of donations, the buckets quickly filling up with loose change and notes.

"Sakura, Eriol sent me down, said you look like you're ready to stab someone so suggested I come watch the desk for you so you can go stretch your legs." Tomoyo shouted as she made her way over from one of the other stalls.

Sakura managed a weak smile, grateful to move around and stretch her stiff legs. She moved over to the main gate, standing out of the main flow of people, watching them as they made their way in with picnic baskets laden with goodies. It had chilled a little and the sky was more overcast than earlier. Sakura frowned at it, praying that it wouldn't rain.

"You know frowning at the sky isn't going to make it any less likely to rain," came a deep, sexy, melted chocolate voice from behind her.

Sakura sighed, knowing that at some point she should at least attempt to make up for her earlier behaviour. "Yea, but frowning at it makes me feel better. Plus if I'm frowning at the sky it means I'm not frowning at the customers, and I'm pretty sure that Eriol will thank me for that."

Syaoran laughed, and Sakura swore that his laugh was probably sexier than his voice. "Seeing as we didn't get off to the best of starts earlier let's try again. Hi I'm Syaoran." He extended his hand and Sakura's good manners kicked in, forcing to shake his hand.

"I'm Sakura, also known as raging bitch when she's woken up early in the morning by an insensitive asshole of a best friend." Sakura smiled, hoping that it would be enough to gloss over her earlier interaction

Sakura forced herself not to squirm, normally she would be the one with a thousand witty sarcastic remarks, but they all seemed to flee her brain the second that Syaoran had taken her hand in his. His hands were large and warm, a soothing balm to her cold fingers.

"We better get back before Tomoyo thinks we've done a runner." Sakura managed to force out weakly, her eyes fixed on the ground as she cursed herself for her sudden lack of vocabulary.

* * *

_**Sakura**_

Time seems to slow down; as does the number of people coming in or wanting raffle ticket and I get more fidgety as my boredom grows. I start doodling on a pad of paper, creating swirls and patterns that interlock with each other. I'm so engrossed in my task that I don't hear Syaoran come up behind me, but the aroma of coffee soon gains my attention.

"Please tell me that coffee is for me?" I moan, wondering if I'm salivating like the mad caffeine addict I am.

He smiles, handing me a plastic pint glass full of hot strong coffee. I inhale the bittersweet aroma as I wrap my cold hands around the burning hot plastic. "You know this is probably the highlight of my day," I mumble over the rim of the glass as I take a tentative sip of the hot sweet coffee, trying not to moan aloud as I have the first mouthful.

"Then you clearly need to have a better day. I hope I'm not the reason behind it."

I manage a smile, "even if you were this would be enough to absolve you of any sins," I say, gesturing to the coffee.

"Eriol also told me to tell you that there's free food over at the cake stall and that he's amazed you haven't torn the place apart looking for food."

I think the expression on my face says it all as he hides a smirk "He could have said something earlier rather than leaving me here to starve to death!"

He holds his hands up in defence, "I didn't know it was there, Eriol mentioned it when I went up to make the drinks. He also said to tell you and these are his exact words so don't shoot the messenger, 'if the stubborn girl had just said something about being hungry then I would have said something earlier!'"

"Sounds like something he would say, but I'm amazed at the lack of swearing." I raise one eyebrow at him, waiting for him to confirm what I already know.

"Oh there was swearing, but I've just handed you a cup of hot coffee so I'm not going to repeat what he said in fear of you dumping it down my pants or something as equally sadistic." He smiles at me, the broad grin lighting up his face as I laugh with him.

"Good to know you seem to have a measure of me already. Look I should really apologise for my behaviour earlier. I have a serious allergy to anything early on in the day, especially when it involves meeting new people." I manage to force the words out, proud of myself for being the bigger person for once. If only Eriol could see me now, he'd probably be grinning like some kind of proud parent.

"Not a problem, I'm not much of a morning person either so I share your pain." He states. "So don't worry about it." He leaves me and my coffee to ponder why I would be worrying about it. I push the thought to one side, deciding that it is either something I should evaluate properly later or just ignore completely.

The next few hours pass in a blur of people and boredom, the park is packed and almost all the raffle tickets I had at the beginning of the day are gone, leaving me with a pile of ticket stubs and buckets full of cash for the children's home. Both Eriol and Tomoyo have popped in a couple of times, relieving me for a break and dropping off more coffee or food. I am wound up like a jitterbug on a lethal mix of sugar, caffeine and lack of sleep and I'm starting to get on my own nerves. Checking my watch for what feels like the 20th time in the last 5 minutes I am relieved to see that time is passing, slowly, but still passing. By my reckoning, I should get finished within the next hour. I start counting the bills in the till, bundling them up into stacks ready to hand over to Eriol. My back aches from sitting on the world's most uncomfortable stool for the majority of the day. As much as I would like to think I will be going home to a warm house and a hot shower I'm not going to kid myself.

The money is sorted and ready to bank when Eriol pokes his head in. "How are we doing baby girl?"

"Please tell me it's nearly over, I'm dying to place myself in a horizontal position and straighten my spine." I whine, aware that I sound like a petulant child, but way past caring.

"You are good to go. Tomoy wants to know if you're going to hang around for a couple of drinks with us and everyone else, but I'm guessing due to your previous statement that's a no?"

"Try a hell no," I quip, relieved that the day is officially over. "Tell her thanks, but my sofa and a TV marathon of Ghost in the Shell are calling me and I'm too weak to resist the call."

"You going to be ok getting back to your car or do you want me to walk you?" He asks as I hand him the takings, earning a well-deserved eye-roll from me.

"I'll be fine, I'm just parked across the street," I say, grabbing him in a quick hug. "Tell Tomoyo I'll come round during the week for dinner."

Eriol grins at me, "Ok, I'll see you later on this week. I owe you and your inner bitch cake so give us a text when you're going to come round."

Syaoran catches me leaving. "Heading off?" He asks as he walks me towards my car, his chivalry a throwback to days gone by. "You're not staying for the after-party?" He questions me, a slight grin twitching one corner of his mouth.

I shake my head. "Nah, to be honest I'm beat and the thought of spending any time anywhere else by my bed just isn't doing it for me. So my rock and roll Saturday consists of a date with my sofa and a Ghost in the Shell marathon."

"Well, it's was nice meeting you, maybe I'll see you around sometime?"

I smile, not trusting myself to respond in a nice fashion when my brain is screaming 'no you will not see me again because you're the kind of guy that could send me off the deep end and I promised myself that I would stay away from men like you!'

As I drive off with a wave, and when I flick my eyes to the rear-view mirror to glance back at him I am surprised that driving away from him feels a little bit like a loss.

* * *

AN: So ends chapter one – I shall get on with editing chapter 2.

Please R&R

dk


	2. Chapter 2

**Damaged Goods**

**Chapter Two**

_**Sakura**_

It's a couple of weeks later and my life has returned to normal. Thankfully my spine seems to have straightened out after being sat on that damn chair for the whole day. I'm sat in the garage, staring out the window, watching the rain slowly trace its way down the windowpane. Glancing at the clock, I find myself sighing in relief. Only another forty minutes to go. It's been a really slow day, and the only sound left is the heavy ticking of the clock echoing through the otherwise empty workshop.

Looking back down at the book I am supposed to be studying I re-read a sentence for what feels like the millionth time before slamming the textbook closed with a resounding bang that echoes through the workshop.

"Sakura," a shout rings out from the back office. "Get in here we've got a call out."

I traipse towards the office, cursing whichever imbecile has gotten themselves stranded in what looks like a monsoon. Sticking my head in the doorway, I look across at Mr Yataki, the old cantankerous owner and my current employer.

"They're up near Bookers Bridge; car cut out and now it won't start."

"Bookers Bridge is 30 minutes away and I'm supposed to finish in forty. Can't you send Haku or someone?" I protest.

Mr Yataki looks at me through his bushy grey eyebrows. "You are the only one who is actually here at the moment, so short of magically creating more staff then no there isn't anyone else." His words are softened by the twinkle in his eye. "Just take the truck and go rescue the poor schmuck before he drowns in the rain."

I harrumph, blowing my errant hair out of my face as I stomp across the workshop, grabbing the set of waterproofs that get shared between the mechanics. Shrugging into the over-sized jacket that drowns my small frame I mutter obscenities under my breath, promising all manner of cruel and unusual punishment to the moron that is dumb enough to have gone outside in this storm. I sprint across the yard, my movements dislodging my hood and the rain soaking my hair and dripping down the collar of the coat, leaving my clothes underneath soaked. I don't know why I even bothered with putting the damn thing on in the first place.

I launch myself in the truck, jam the keys in the ignition and turn the heating up to full. I'll be damned if I'll let myself freeze to death whilst driving to rescue someone else their stupid broken down junk of a car.

The journey takes longer than it should. The rain is so heavy, even with the wipers on max I can barely see the road. It forces me to slow down, and driving at a snail's pace and makes angrier at the poor unsuspecting customer that's waiting for me at the end of this trip.

Finally, I make it to Bookers Bridge, thankfully in one piece without aquaplaning all over the road. I park up and pull the hood up on my coat, for all the good it will do for my already wet through clothes, and step out, braving the lashing rain. The ground itself is a quagmire of mud and water and I grimace as the cold water seeps through the worn soles and sloshes between my toes.

Looking up I catch a glimpse of the person stepping out of the car and my breath catches. This is just not my fucking day. What are the chances that the one person I'm trying to avoid be the person I run into. Standing against his car, his hair plastered to his forehead and his clothes clinging to his muscles is Syaoran

* * *

_**Syaoran**_

Today has just not been my day. First there was the argument with Lexi where I had to explain the meaning of no strings attached. That in turn made me late for class, which as always means that the tutor goes out of their way to humiliate you for the remainder of the class. Then this piece of junk I lovingly refer to as a car decides to up and die on me in the middle of nowhere in the middle of a storm.

So when I see Sakura storming towards me with murderous intent I decide that the universe definitely has it out for me.

"Syaoran," she states curt and unfriendly.

She looks pissed, but then again I don't think I'd be the happiest person to be pulled outside in the pouring rain. The waterproof jacket she's wearing drowns her small frame, the hood flapping around in the wind making me assume that she's just given up with it. She's pale and there are dark shadows under her eyes that makes me wonder why she looks so tired.

"Sakura," I state, my tone matching hers. "Looking a bit wet there sunshine."

"Bite me!" She retorts, shooting me a glare that proves my earlier assumption that she was pissed at me.

"Is that how you treat all your customers?" I ask, returning the glare and staring into her emerald eyes.

"Only the ones that drag me out in the piss pouring rain." She snaps.

I have the decency to look apologetic, I actually feel sorry for dragging her out in here in the middle of a storm. "I know, not the best day to break down." I look up at the sky, the raindrops splashing on my face and clinging to my eyelashes. Looking back at her I smirk, I just can't resist winding her up. "But if I'd known you were going to come out and rescue me I would have broken down a long time ago."

"I'm presuming it's got gas?" She snaps, letting me know that my joke isn't appreciated and I chide myself for baiting her but can't resist rolling my eyes at her apparent assumption of my stupidity.

"Of course it's got gas, contrary to your perception of me I'm not as thick as two short planks!"

She moves to one side, refusing to look me in the eye. "I'll try giving it a jump start, if that doesn't work then I'll be shipping it back to the shop. No offence but I am not going to attempt to fix your car in this downpour, I will end up doing more harm than good. Just pop the hood for me and I'll get the leads."

She stomps off and I busy myself with getting the hood of the car open leaving it unlatched but with the hood down, the last thing I want is an engine swimming in water. I can see Sakura sat in the truck, the tension evident in her posture and I find myself wandering towards her against my better judgement.

She leaning against the back seat of the truck, half sheltered from the rain, trying to untangle a bunch of wires that looks more like a ball of wool than a set of jump leads. Her teeth are chattering and her fingers are stiff and uncooperative. I'm suddenly shot by a wave of pity for the poor girl that's come out in the foul weather in ill fitting waterproofs to rescue me.

"Give them here." I say gently, trying not to anger or alarm her.

* * *

_**Sakura**_

I throw the ball of cables in his hand, pride be damned. I am too tired and too cold to care. I watch as his fingers nimbly extract the jump leads from the assorted tangle. He has nice hands and I find myself watching the deft action of his fingers. Dragging my eyes away, I reach into the front of the truck and extract my phone from the front seat. It's more of a distraction than anything else, but it gives me something else to focus. Being this close to him is making me uncomfortable and I wish there was a way I could put some distance between us.

We stand here, in the rain, in silence, me pretending to look at my phone and him working on untangling the wires. I'm struck by the how surreal the situation is. Normally I can't stand being within 10 foot of people that set me on edge, yet here I am, piss wet through and freezing my ass off standing in a comfortable silence. The moment is lost when he hands the now separated cables back to me and a heaviness settles between us, causing tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

Striding back out towards his car I don't bother putting the hood up, it's not going to do me any favours. Busying myself under the hood of the car, I take a moment to appreciate the inner workings of what is a broken, but beautiful engine and estimation of Syaoran increased slightly. Hooking to clips to the battery, I swear as I nip my fingers between the sharp crocodile teeth, my head jerking up and connecting with the hood. This is just perfect, now I look like an incompetent female mechanic drowned rat. Extracting myself fro, under the hood with no further injury, I glare at Syaoran, daring him to be stupid enough to say something to me. Wisely, he stays quiet for once.

After a couple of failed to attempts to breathe life back into the dead engine I admit defeat. I rest my head on the steering wheel in frustration; his car won't start we're now going to be stuck together in the truck on what is going to be a long drive back. Biting my lip in frustration, I move the truck so I can hook his up to the tow and climb back out of, this time leaving my already soaked waterproof jacket in the foot well.

"I get it started." I mumble at him. "I'll hook it up and tow it back to the garage; it'll have to stay there overnight though, so pick up any valuables out bring them with you, you'll be riding with me."

By the time I have finished hooking up his car to the back of the truck I look like I've jumped in the shower fully clothed. My sweater clings to my slim figure and my hair is a sopping wet mess tied in a knot at the back of my head. Climbing into the truck, I try and fail to stop my teeth from chattering as I wait for the warm air spewing from the vents to defrost me.

"Here," Syaoran says softly, handing me a large, oversized, but dry, sweater. "You should put this on before you get freeze to death."

I'm struck by a moment of blind panic at the realisation that the only thing I have on under my jumper is a bra and a ratty tank top. For most people this wouldn't be a problem, but for me, with my scars, this is going to be a monumental issue. "Can you turn around please?" I manage to ask civilly, hoping that the windows have fogged up enough that he won't catch a view of my back in the wing mirror. He obliges, which surprises me and I pull my soggy sweater off, throwing it on the back seat. His sweater dwarfs my tiny frame in a sea of warm clean cotton that smells like him. It's a strong, woody, masculine scent, but not overpowering, and I breathe the smell in, enjoying the unfamiliar fragrance that wraps itself round me.

Pushing the long sleeves up so that I can actually see my hands, I mutter thanks in his direction and shift the truck into first. The journey back is slow, especially given the extra weight I'm now towing. Wishing there was something to break the now awkward silence between us I curse the truck radio for being broken.

"Is it just me or is it ironic that a mechanic's truck doesn't have a working radio?" Syaoran says, breaking the silence.

I manage a smirk at his comment as I peer through the heavy rain hitting the windshield. "None of us have ever gotten round to repairing it, it would be the equivalent of free labour."

"How long have you been a mechanic?" He asks, his questions knocking me off guard.

"Got this job straight out of high school, but I spent the majority of my childhood under a car with my dad. He was a mechanic too." I can feel his gaze fixed on me and it makes me squirm and chance a quick look out the corner of my eye to make sure that I am not just imagining the heated stare.

He smiles at me, not one of those devastating million watt smiles but it still has the same affect. "Sounds like a fun way to spend your childhood; my dad was a lawyer so I spent a chunk of my life reading law books through boredom if I went to see him on the way home. Think I would rather have been under the hood of a car to be honest."

I acknowledge his statement with a grunt, trying to fix my focus on the road. It is rare for me to share anything with anyone, but then again most people don't ask questions given my bitchy disposition. "My mom hated it," I continue. "I think she really wanted a girly girl that would play dress up, instead she ended up with a tomboy constantly covered in grease." I manage to keep the self-loathing out of my voice, unsure why I am continuing with this conversation. I don't speak about my mom, not even to all the therapists I was dragged to. Yet here I am spilling my guts to someone that is near enough a complete stranger.

"My little sister was like that, constantly trying to keep up with me and my mates. She could climb higher and faster than any of us, but I think that was her trying to prove that she was one of the boys." He smiles as he mentions me, and I feel myself get slightly jealous at the sibling bond. I never had any brothers or sisters; I think I was enough to handle on my own.

"She sounds like the kind of person I would have got along with, I'm not so good with girly girls." I comment, earning a weak laugh from him before he turns to look out the window.

I pull into the garage, relieved to see that Mr Yataki it still there given the lights shining from inside the workshop. Backing through the double doors, I breathe a sigh of relief that this nightmarish day is nearly over. I can hear Mr Yataki operating the winch and I offer a silent thanks to him for making my day slightly easier. Syaoran hops out first and I start to gather up the wet gear from the back of the truck, making a face at the thought of having to return his sweater.

Mr Yataki gives me a wink as I hop out the truck and I smile back. By his standards, that is high praise indeed and I am suddenly very grateful to him for taking a chance on me when I wandered into his garage straight out of high school.

"Is that you finished for the day?" Syaoran asks, leaving me wondering why we are still making conversation – I really need to work on my people skills.

"Yea, I'm heading over to Eriol's for my dinner. He still owes me a mountain of hot food to make up for the day I spent selling raffle tickets." I grin as I think about the hot food that should be waiting for me when I get to his. "How are you getting back?" I question, suddenly realising that his car is out of action.

"I was going walk – it won't take too long, I only live a couple of streets down from Eriol." He looks out the window at the rain. "Of course I may end up swimming back instead of walking."

"Don't be stupid, I can give you a ride as far as Eriol's." I offer, cursing my good manners, but I can't just leave him to walk home in that weather. So much for keeping my distance. He nods and rewards my kindness with a smile and I feel the blush spread to my toes.

The drive to Eriol's is quick and uneventful, the silence broken only by the thrumming of the rain hitting the roof. I park up outside the apartment block Eriol and Tomoyo live in and fiddle with the sleeves of the sweater, conscious of the fact that I need to return it. I bite my lip wondering if I can just rip it off and run inside before he can catch sight of my mutilated body.

"Don't worry about giving me the sweater back right now, just leave it at Eriol's when you're done with it, don't see the point in you putting wet clothes back on." I sigh in relief, wondering if he noticed my evident discomfort. I smile at him, not a sarcastic smile, but a genuine smile. It feels strange being sincere, I've spent that long hiding behind a bitchy sarcastic façade that being friendly feels alien.

We go our separate ways and I climb the stairs up to Eriols's apartment, my legs leaden and tired. My feet are still soaked, I am exhausted and my thoughts are in a jumbles mess. I made a promise to myself that I would stay away from him, that getting involved with him in any way, even as a friend, could only spell disaster. It is like some kind of magnetic attraction and I find myself wondering when, or if, I am going to see him again?

* * *

AN: Please R&R - reviews make me happy (and it would really make my year)

dk


	3. Chapter 3

**Damaged Goods**

**Chapter Three**

_**Sakura**_

It's been a couple of weeks since me and Syaoran have started hanging out, thankfully not in parks selling raffle tickets or washed out roadsides in the pouring rain. And in the time I've known him I can safely say that my life seems to have taken a bit of a U-turn. We see or speak to each other a couple of times a week and I'm finding him to be a really good friend. He's not the shallow self centred guy that I originally assumed, even though he does go through women like I go through clean socks. The fact that I can be the biggest bitch in the world or insult him constantly and he doesn't bat an eyelid is an added bonus. I think he's just happy to have a female friend that isn't a simpering bimbo desperate to get in his pants, and believe me I've meet plenty of them every time we go out. The fact that he has a kick-ass taste in films and isn't part of a couple is pretty good as well.

Our friendship has done me some good though, he forces me to come out of the house and be less of a hermit – even if it's just going for coffee down the road. Don't get me wrong I'm not exactly sharing my 'issues' with the world by shouting it from the rooftops, but he is getting me to open up and talk about some things. Mainly my Dad. I like to talk about him, I have so many early memories of being his little girl that I never share, and as long as I don't think about his death or the aftermath that ensued it's a relatively safe topic. Neither of us talk about the dark things in our past or our time in care and I think that's why I feel happy talking to him, cause I know he's not going to press me to open up like all the therapists used to.

But, of course, just because one part of my life seems to be going better it automatically means that something else has to hit the fan. The eviction notice that was pinned to the door when I left for work this morning highlighted this law of the universe. Just because the owner has decided to up sticks and move half way across the country to be with her grandkids it means I have to move out. Apparently selling shoebox sized apartment is more convenient than renting it out.

"Sakura," Syaoran shouts, catching up with me just as I'm leaving the work for the day. "I just spoke to Eriol who told me about the apartment – what are you planning on?"

Oh yea that's Syaoran all over, avoids the pleasantries and just jumps straight into the conversation. I pull a face at him for bringing up the one thing I'd spent most of the day trying not to think about.

"Hi Syaoran, nice to see you too, I'm fine thanks for asking and yes I'm getting evicted, but I'm trying not to think about it until I've had time to sit down and digest it all. How are you?" I retort with a grin.

He rolls his eyes, "Ok Ok, I get the point so you can stop trying to make me feel bad you know it doesn't work. But seriously are you ok?"

I shrug, "If worse comes to worse then I'll end up either sofa surfing or sleeping in the car. I've done it before so I'll do it again if I have too. Hopefully it won't come to that though." I think back to the days when I was saving up a security for my apartment, of course I would be without a home in the middle of winter so sleeping in my car had been less than enjoyable.

Syaoran looks at me awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other. There sadistic bitch in me enjoys seeing him uncomfortable, but the nicer part of me wins over and I put him out of his misery. "Spit it out Syaoran - you're making me antsy with all the shifty."

"Well, there's still a spare room going at mine after Soka getting his no good ass arrested. So if you need somewhere to stay I could do with the extra cash from having a flatmate." I am pretty sure my face is an abject mix of horror and surprise at the offer, because if possible he starts to look more uncomfortable. It's not that we dont get on, because with the exception of the rocky start to our friendship, we actually get along really well. "It's just an idea though," he states, giving me an out. "You don't have to say anything right away, you've got a couple of weeks before you're out - but just think about it."

I nod mutely, my brain failing to compute anything other than the complete disaster this could end up being. I don't live with other people, my nightmares have previously made it impossible. There is only so much another person can take when they're woken up by someone screaming every night. Ok so sofa surfing doesn't solve the problem either but at least I only impose on people for a short period of time. Helps make the crazy less obvious.

* * *

_**Syaoran**_

Sakura looks ready to pass out at my suggestion and I feel like an idiot for even asking. But there is just something about her, I feel like I want to help her however I can. The thought of her sleeping in her car in October makes me feel sick.

"Why?" She finally chokes out. "It's a hell of an offer to make someone you've only known a couple of weeks."

I look deep into her emerald eyes, hoping she'll see the truth in my words. "Because you're a good person who's in a shitty situation. I'm not going to make light of the situation but I actually enjoy your company. Plus it is either this or put an advert up in the shop, and God knows what kind of maniacs I'll attract if I do that. But like I said, you don't have to make a decision right now, but it's something to think about. Anyway I need to bounce, only came round to let you know that there is a bed available at mine – no sofa surfing required. So I'll see you later." I give a wave as he I leave off, ready to face an evening of woman fawning over me. I'm not being big-headed, it just seems to happen, even when I go out for a few drinks with some friends.

That's one of the things I enjoy about being with Sakura, I can just be myself. I don't have to keep my distance for fear that's she's going to trap me into a relationship. She easy to be around, and sometimes I think her being around makes it easier to breathe.

But enough of this wishy washy emotion crap. All I need a beer and few hours of playing pool to get my head back in the right place.

* * *

**Sakura**

I make my way home thinking over what he's said. Sure, some of it makes sense, he has a spare room and I need somewhere to live. Plus a bed would be far more practical than other people's sofa's. But then there are the underlying issues that will evolve from me living with anyone, not just Syaoran. I'm crap at sharing my personal space, I like to be able to wander round my place at 4am, not having to worry about disturbing other people. I like wearing short-sleeved tops when I 'm slumming it on the sofa and not worrying about the awkward questions that will arise from me showing my scars. In short there's a lot I like about living on my own, but most of all it is the knowledge that if I wake up screaming I won't have to explain what I was dreaming about. But then there's the cost from living on your own. Sure at the moment I can manage it in my pokey little one bedroom apartment, but there's no way I can save up for a deposit on a new place, or even find a place in my price range that isn't home to a colony of cockroaches or rodents.

I keep thinking about it, mulling it over in my head, drawing up lists of pro's and con's, still no closer to reaching a decision. I lie in bed that night, staring at the shadows created by the streetlight outside, my brain whirring unable to shut down. Eventually I give up on sleep and traipse through to the kitchen. Ok so I wouldn't miss having to wear multiple layers every time I got out of bed, but not being able to crash on the sofa and watch mindless TV because I can sleep I would miss. The list is endless, every pro has a con and vice versa. I'm making myself dizzy chasing this round in circles. Flopping onto the sofa, I bury myself under the spare quilt and turn the TV on, hoping that the background noise will drown out my thoughts.

Three days later and I've not given Syaoran my answer, nor has he not bugged me for an answer. Deciding enough is enough I call Eriol begging him to come round. Figuring I need to put something on to cover my arms I look around the bomb site that I refer to as my bedroom. Another con, if I live with someone then I'll have to make an attempt at being tidy. Just to clarify I am not dirty, I do not leave plates with mouldy food lying around or anything like that, I' m just incredibly messy and very disorganised. Finally locating a clean top, I pull it on and push my fingers through the holes I made for my thumbs. If I keep my sleeves anchored i'm less likely to inadvertently push them up and bare my arms. Eriol has seen the scars, but it always makes him upset that he wasn't around to protect me, so I make a conscious effort to keep them covered up. That's another con, I'll have to spend my life in long sleeved tops to avoid the awkward questions.

Eriol arrives and is greeted by me looking like a strung out junkie. "Holy hell Sakura, you look like shit. What's eating you?"

Yep that is Eriol, straight to the point with a no nonsense attitude. I blow a stray strand of hair out of my face and think how best to start this conversation without invoking his super protective big brother mode. "I've got less than two weeks before I lose this place and I've been made an interesting offer that could save me from sofa surfing, but it would require me having to live with someone else."

Eriol pulls a face at me. "Ooh, you living with someone else. Mind me asking who it is or can I hazard a guess?" I look at him quizzically. "It's pretty easy to put two and two together. Syaoran needs someone to move in; you need somewhere to move to or you'll be out on your ass, probably being stubborn and sleeping in your car."

Sometimes Eriol's insight into things borders on down right creepy.

"Now you see what's got me all wound up. Sure, it makes sense, this way I don't have to risk sleeping in my car and would actually have somewhere to go at the end of the day. But on the other hand, there is a chance that I will end up having one of my moments, scream the house down, end up out on my ass anyway and loose a friend in the process. I am knocking myself dizzy going round in circles trying to figure this out. You know Syaoran better than I do, so please give me some insight!"  
Eriol leans against the kitchen counter, arms folded, his faced scrunched up in thought. "I don't know Sakura; both are set in your ways and likely to blow up at the smallest of things. Neither of you has exactly had easy childhood upbringings. It could be that there will be too much emotional baggage for you to live with each other. On the other hand, he makes you open up, you're not nervous around him, so he might be good for you. He's a good guy Sakura, that's got to count for something."

I roll my eyes at him. "Thanks for telling me everything I already knew." I stick my tongue out to soften the harshness of my words. "So you're basically saying I need to make my own mind up and hope that it doesn't all go tits up?"

"You could do much worse. You'd have to deal with girls that traipse coming and going, but at least you wouldn't be relaying on other people for a place to crash. You know you're welcome and mine and Tomoyo's whenever you need a place to crash." Eriol walks over, pulling me into a hug and resting his chin on my head. "Whatever you decide you know I'll support you."

Eriol hangs around for a little longer before leaving to pick Tomoyo up from class. I mull over everything he said, even though it's not helped me reach a decision he's put my mind a bit more at rest. Looking at my phone like it's threatening to bite me I decided I need to man up and call Syaoran

"Hey Sakura," he greets, sounding cheerful. I can hear music in the background so I'm assuming he's out. "Everything ok?"

I fumble for the right words, "err, yea, everything's fine. Just wondering if it's a good time to talk?"

The background noise recedes, he must have moved outside from wherever he was. "Sure, I'm just out playing pool with some of the guys. What's on your mind?"

"Well it's about the offer you made the other day. I'd like to talk to you about it before saying yes or no. Can you pop round sometime when you're free?"

"I can come round later on this evening if you want."

"Sure, that would be great. I'll see you later then."

He hangs up, leaving me alone with my thoughts I'm about ninety percent sure I'm going to say yes, it makes sense, but that all depends on what ground rules he'll agree to. I guess I'm going to have to mention my nocturnal wanderings to a certain degree. I don't want to risk him or scantily clad women wandering round the house when I'm half comatose on the sofa chasing sleep.

I'm loathed to admit it but I've more or less made my decision and I'm amazed at the feeling of relief. At least I won't have to rely on people letting me crash on their sofas or sleeping in my car, something I'd like to avoid given how cold it's getting.  
Syaoran arrives about an hour later and I stick the kettle on. He seemed so big in my tiny kitchen, I realised with a pang, that for all its faults, I'm to miss my pokey little apartment.

* * *

_**Syaoran**_

"You sounded kind of off on the phone." I comment, shifting nervously against the worktops.

"Not off, just wanted to discuss some stuff with you before I say yes that's all." Sakura said nervously, busying herself with making coffee. I try not to smile because she's more or less agreed to moving in with that statement. "There's just a couple of things I want to make sure that we agree on."

I raise an eyebrow at her, now I'm expecting a laundry list of requests, and I can just about guarantee the first one will be about the damn toilet seat. "Go on then," I say cautiously.

"First, I just want to make sure that you know my room is my room. I don't want anyone just wandering in and out. I like my own space and I need to know that I'm going to be safe. Secondly, as you might have guessed this already, I'm not the tidiest of people." she gestures round the small apartment that constantly looks like it's been burgled. "I'll do my share and keep the living room and kitchen clean, but my room will always be disorganised chaos. And I expect the same from you with keeping the living room and kitchen clean, I don't want to come in after work to what is possibly a bona fide bachelor pad. I am messy, not dirty and definitely going to play housemaid."

She looks up at me and I know that whatever she needs to tell me she's struggling to find the words for. She always worries at her bottom lip with her teeth and I hate to admit it but there's a large part of me that wants to pull her lip out of the way with my thumb. But I know anything like that would make her freak out, even when if I didn't mean anything by it.

"Something you'll need to learn to deal with is my nocturnal wanderings, I don't sleep well so chances are I'll be sprawled on the sofa watching TV or making a brew at stupid o'clock in the morning. Sometimes I have nightmares so I need to know you're not going to panic if you hear me screaming or crying in my sleep. Just leave me alone till I come too and it'll all be fine. I appreciate this turning into a list, but I need to know that you're OK with all this , because if not then I can't to move in. I need to feel secure wherever I'm staying and I don't want to mess up our friendship on the off chance that us living together doesn't pan out."

I smile, trying to ease some of the tension that's built up. "You've made some really valid points and I've got a few of my own to add. But first, no one will go in your room without your say so and that includes me. Sometimes I'll have friends over but I don't want you to feel like you can't come and hang out with us if you want. It's a shared house so I expect any housework to be shared, and that's not saying I expect you to pick up after me or do my laundry. I sing in the shower, so you'll have to get used to a what sounds like a cat being strangled. If you use the last of something, I expect you to replace it, especially if it's coffee cause I don't function well without it."

I smile at her, knowing fine well that the chances of us running out of coffee is slim to fuck all. We're both self confessed caffeine addicts. "Rent is $450 and that includes water and electric. I need it by the first of the month, but if you can get it earlier it makes my life a hell of a lot easier. I won't have drugs in the house, that's what got Soka kicked out and I won't hesitate to kick you out for the same reason, friendship or not."

Sakura nods in agreement, "that's fine with me and I'm in complete agreement with you over drugs. So when can I move in? I need to be out of here by next weekend so I all I need to know is when I can start dropping my stuff off"

I pull a set of keys out of my pockets and throw them to her, "you can start moving in whenever you want, you might as well cause the room's sat empty and at this way you don't have to do it all in one mad rush. Just a thought, how much of this furniture is yours - cause I don't know if I need another sofa."

"Pretty much none of it, the coffee table and the hall unit, but that's about it. Place was fully furnished when I moved in. The TV's mine as well as all the kitchen utensils but big furniture wise pretty much nothing.

"Do you want any help? Or are you going make Eriol into help out?"

"Nah I'll be fine, unlike most girls I don't have piles of stuff that I insist on carting round. Are you going to hang out for a while or have you got somewhere to be?" She asks handing me a cup of coffee.

"No plans till late when I'm going out with the boys for a few drinks so I'm good to hang around for a while yet."

She rolls her eyes at me an exasperated expression, "what poor girl are you going to drag home with you tonight." She sticks her tongue out to soften the blow of her words and I had the decency to look slightly ashamed, but then go and ruin that with my next statement.

"There is never any dragging. They follow me home willingly." She rolls her eyes at me again and I shrug my shoulders. I'll admit I'm known for being a bit of a player. Eriol always ribs me about it and Tomoyo always shouts at me for the poor destitute girls doing the walk of shame the next day.

"How many poor girls I'm I likely to come face to face with," Sakura asks, an alarmed expression crossing her face.

"Not that many, most of them have the decency to leave fairly quickly, but there's always the odd straggler that seems to think sex is an invitation to a relationship." I pull a face at the number of girls I've had to turf out of the apartment. "Why are you planning on dragging some poor unsuspecting soul back to my den of iniquity and sin?"

She laughs at my insinuation. "Ha don't know if you'd noticed or now, but I'm a little too prickly for most men to even attempt to get into my pants."

I laugh along with her as we make our way into the living room, crashing out on the sofa. As always she folds her feet under her legs and then pulls the quilt down around her, making a little Sakura shaped tent. I sprawl out, my legs stretched out and my arm casually slung over the back of the sofa. I like hanging out like this, and I hope that for all of our flaws and issues this will continue she moves in, I don't want our comfortable friendship to vanish.

* * *

AN: As always please R&R

Happy New Year

dk


	4. Chapter 4

**Damaged Goods**

**Chapter Three**

**_Sakura_**

Moving day is here, and despite my earlier insistence that I didn't need help I was beginning to wish I had taken Syapran up on his offer. After much huffing and puffing up and down stairs, I had the last box loaded and had just started to do the final sweep. Standing in the doorway I cast my eyes over my now empty bedroom, sad to be leaving what had been my refuge for the last 12 months..

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about my new living arrangement, sure on paper there was no reason that it wouldn't work out. But reality is always something completely different and I wasn't so sure that me and Syaoran would be able to handle each others obvious emotional issues.

I'd been to Syaorans apartment to pick him up a couple of times, but I'd never been past the front door so I wasn't too sure what state the remainder of the apartment would be in. I pictured a typical bachelor pad, street signs and naked girls on the walls, beer cans spilling out of the trash can and probably that typical sweaty boy smell. What I didn't expect was to walk into a clean, semi-stylish living room with no naked women on the walls, only black and white shots of some local landscapes and architecture.

Syaoran came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dishtowel and snorted at my amazed expression. "Not what you were expecting for a 25 year olds apartment?"

I nodded in awe, "this place is something. How the hell do you afford to live here and only charge me $450 a month, you could well let the room out for more than that!"

"The apartment belonged to dad; it was his city apartment for when he had big trials in the city. It was easier for him that making the 3 hour commute back home. After they died, it was in the care of the lawyers and they rented it out until I was old enough to move in myself. Now I rent out the second room because it makes paying the bills easier, and in all honesty I don't like living by myself in this place – it's too big for one person."

"You're insane; I would kill to live in a place like this on my own!" I argue

"That's because your need for socialisation is low on your list of priorities." He quips back, smiling. "But don't worry I'm not going to drag you out to socialise, you can be the apartment hermit if you want."

"As long as being the hermit doesn't entail either cooking or cleaning then I think we can make this work. Now stop standing there gabbing and come give me a hand."

"Thought you didn't need any help," he teased.

"Well I changed my mind."

"Typical woman!"

With Syaorans help, I managed to get everything out of the car and in the apartment within an hour. Unpacking was going to take considerably longer, but that was something I was putting for the foreseeable future. It was something that would keep me occupied when I couldn't face sleep, and being in a strange place was going to knock my sleeping pattern more off kilter than normal.

I padded through to the living room, marvelling at the large open space. It was clean and minimalist but managed to avoid being clinical or cold. The front room had large windows that made the room light and airy, the hardwood floors had rugs scattered across, almost so I could hop from one rug to the other without my feet touching the floor, like little stepping-stones. But the thing that drew my attention the most, mainly because it looked so damn comfortable, was the huge leather recliner that was situated next to a large leather corner suit. I could see myself spending hours relaxing in either chair when ignoring my basic need to sleep in the darkest months. I settled myself down in the recliner, the leather swallowing me and hugging my body. I let out a sigh of contentment as I stretched out and reclined the seat all the way back. This was bliss in its most basic form.

"Why does something tell me I've lost my seat?" Syaoran piped up from the large open kitchen that was behind me.

"Because there is no way anyone is coming between me and this chair without a fight. And don't think you can take me on just because I'm a girl. I would so kick your ass."

Syaoran snorted as walked over, hopping over the back of the sofa and landing with a thump among the cushions. "Once again I would like to point out that I'm not a complete moron."

"Debatable, you've just let a crazy person move in with you. How do you know I'm not going to tie you to the bed and rob you of all your belongings?" I teased.

"Cause you're too lazy to bother doing something that would take that much effort. I'm relaying on your lack of energy in the morning and a good cup of coffee to save me and my stuff from your wrath."

I laugh as I enjoy the simple pleasure that comes from being in someone else's company.

"So have you finished unpacking?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you kidding me – I've barely started unpacking. I'll worry about it later; to be honest it's not going to take long. It is not as if I own a mountain of stuff that needs to be perfectly arranged. Think I would rather spend my time living out of all the boxes than actually face the horrors of unpacking."

"So if you're not unpacking right now then that means we can go out drinking instead?" He questioned. "Not rat arsed drunk obviously because you've got work tomorrow. But a little celebratory drink wouldn't go amiss."

I pull a face, even though going out would be preferable to unpacking, being crammed in an enclosed space with a bunch of drunken people is not. I make a point of avoiding busy places, and a Saturday night in any of the local watering holes is a recipe for disaster.

"I don't know," I say hesitantly, "I think I'd just rather stay in and have a few beers – I'm beat after carrying all those boxes."

Syaoran looks straight through my excuse, raising an eyebrow at me. " Come on, just one drink in a quiet establishment then? I know a place that won't be crammed to the rafters; we can meet up with Eriol and Tomoyo if they're free."

Knowing that I've got to start living again and stop hiding behind my insecurities I agree to go out for 'one' drink as long as I'm given enough time to jump in the shower and change out of my dirty moving clothes. That of course involves finding clean clothes in amongst the packed boxes and finally, after rummaging around I manage to find a clean long sleeved black jumper dress that doesn't have any holes and a pair of black leggings that I can team up with my doc martins. Ok so I'll end up looking some kind of grunge emo kid, but that's about as going-out as my wardrobe selection gets.

After a long hot shower in a shower that actually has water-pressure and I'm regretting my decision to go out, it would be much easier just to curl up on the sofa and veg out with crap TV in the background and a couple of beers. But I've have said yes my pride won't let me back down so I wrap my hair in a towel and pulling my clothes on, checking out my reflection in the mirror. Ok so I look about 15 with my hair wrapped up and no make-up. I'm m not into wearing lots of make-up, never have been, with the exception of a few special occasions. But after looking at my pale skin, the dark shadows under my eyes and the lack of colour in my cheeks I figure that a little make-up will go a long way. That's presuming I don't poke my eye out in the process of applying mascara. Conscious of the fact that I seem to be taking forever in the bathroom and that Syaoran might want to shower I leave to go finish getting ready in my room.

Leaving the bathroom, I chuck my dirty clothes in the washer, making a mental note to unearth my laundry hamper. Syaoran mutters something unintelligible on his way into the bathroom, but I miss what he says because of the water still in my ears. Quickly towel drying my hair I tease apart the knots with my fingers, wishing for the umpteenth time that I hadn't inherited my mother's slightly wavy, unruly, heavy hair. Wandering through to my room, still trying to untangle my hair I eventually locate a hairbrush and attack my hair with vicious strokes, determined that it will untangle itself and behave. I am muttering several choice curses due to its lack of co-operation when Syaoran walks past.

"Don't think I've ever seen you with your hair down." He comments from the doorway.

I spin round, only to be confronted with his half-naked form leaning against the doorframe, towel slung low on his hips. I swallow, willing my jaw to stay where it is and not hit the floor in a drooling mess. I knew he had a nice body from the form fitting t-shirts he wore, but seeing it in the flesh took my appreciation for the male form to a completely new level. He has a perfectly sculpted six pack and that sexy pronounced 'v' shape that outlined his hips. But it was his tattoos that really grabbed my attention, I'd seen the them peeking out from under his shirt, but I had had no idea just how intricate they where, how far they spread or how beautiful they were. The sight in front of me was enough to turn me into a simpering idiot and had to kick myself to stop staring at him. I averted my eyes, forcing myself to look at an invisible marker above his shoulder.

"I don't wear it down that often because it annoys the hell out of me." I managed to force out, my voice sounding breathy and hoarse – great now I sound like some kind of phone girl. I cleared my throat. "That and the ability to do anything with it is lost on me."

* * *

**_Syaoran_**

I was trying not to stare at Sakura, but it was the first time I'd seen her with her hair down and wearing something other than a baggy sweater. Her hair is so much longer than I'd though, half way down her back and wavy, the deep auburn colour looking darker than normal due to still being wet.

She turns so her back is to me, still wrestling with her hair. "You almost ready?" I ask trying to break the tension that's build up.

"Yea, I just need to blast my hair with a hair dryer and then I'm ready to go." She teases, glancing over her shoulder, "I think at this rate I'm going to be ready before you."

I smile and head down to my room, determined to finish getting ready before Sakura. It was weird having her living here, but not uncomfortable, just different I guess. I'm used to living with other guys, and having a girl in the house, one that I don't plan on dragging into bed is taking a bit more getting used to than I thought.

Dressed and ready to go I wander into the living room. Sakura is slouched on the recliner, her hair still down and curling around her. She seems different and it's not just because she's wearing a dress or has her hair down. She seems softer, less sharp around the edges. I don't know if I'm just imagining it or if it's because our friendship is evolving, but there's something different about both of us.

"Ok, so apparently unlike every other girl on the planet you've managed to get ready before me." I joke, her head snapping up like she was deep in thought. "So what do you say we get this show on the road. I've spoken to Eriol and Tomoyo and they're going to meet us down there."

She smiles at me, her green eyes sparking but nervous and I feel bad for dragging her out. Eriol has mentioned previously how she hates social situations and that was the reason for her behaviour towards me the first time we met. But by the time I consider this we're already out the door and heading down to the small local bar at the bottom of the street.

* * *

**_Sakura_**

Syaoran was right when he said he knew a place that wouldn't be crowded, and after a couple of beers, I find that I'm actually enjoying myself. Tomoyo and Eriol where provided just enough distraction to my random thoughts and I felt like I was could breathe properly for the first time in weeks.

I was on my third beer, starting to feel a little tipsy when I felt a chill drift over me, almost like someone had walked over my grave. I stood up to look around, my eyes landing on someone I went to high school with. I could feel the blood drain from my face as I sat down with a thud. This was not good. The last thing I needed was for my new housemate to meet one of the viscous rumour spreaders that had made the last couple of years of high school hell on earth. I prayed that I wouldn't be noticed, and shrunk myself down behind Syaorans large frame.

Of course wanting someone not to see you when you were purposefully avoiding them is a bit like asking the pope to agree to same sex marriage. A ludicrous request and damned unlikely to happen.

"Well well, look who we have here." A voice boomed across the room, making me visibly shirk. "If it isn't litte Sakura Kinomoto, long time no see."

I force myself to smile nicely; he's drunk so if I'm lucky maybe he'll play nice. "Hi Tomasu," I manage sweetly. "Nice to see you too."

"Never said it was nice to see you," he snorts, destroying any notion I had that this was going to be a pleasant conversation. "Honestly thought you'd have landed yourself in the loony-bin by now."

I feel Eriol tense next to me and I lay a hand on his arm, a bar fight is the last thing any of us needs to happen. I look at him beseechingly, praying that he'll keep his hot headed temper under control. Of course I was so busy keeping an eye on Eriol that I didn't see Syaoran jump to my defence. Though when I say jump I really mean stand up slow and stand towering over Tomasu looking like he might rip his head off.

Unfortunately, Tomasu is already too drunk to realise that he's managed to piss of someone that could take him down with both hands behind his back and continues to spout abuse at me. "I mean, seriously, the only thing anyone thought you were any good for was a quick screw. You remember those days don't you Sakura?"

Syaoran starts to moving toward Tomasu, his intent clear. Eriol jumps up to restrain him, but what none of them see, or expect, is my fist flying towards Tomasu's ugly face. I feel his nose crumple as it connects with my knuckles, as satisfying pop as blood starts pouring out of his nose. I hate punching people because it makes my fairly small hands swell to the size of a tennis ball, but this time I'm more than happy to make an exception.

"You stupid bitch!" Tomasu roars, advancing towards me, his white t-shirt now stained with blood. "You punched me!"

I smirk, no longer afraid of him or what he represents, the adrenaline pushing back any fears or doubts I may have had. "Yes I punched you, I should have punched you years ago, but I figured being a shit lay was probably enough of a blow to your ego."

Tomasu lunges at me, but before I can step aside and kick his drunken ass to the kerb, Syaoran steps in. I can see a look of horror spread across his face as her realises I'm no longer the one he's lunging at, but he's mid lunge and unable to stop, especially given his intoxicated condition. He ploughs into Syaoran who sends him sprawling, arms and legs flailing wildly on the way down. Syaoran towers over Tomasu's now prone form that is visibly cowering on the floor in front of him.

"You don't ever speak to a lady that way!" He spits out, neck muscles corded in anger. "I don't care if she's a no good, two bit prostitute trying to turn a trick. You keep those thoughts to yourself."

Tomasu sneers at Syaoran and shoots me a dirty look. "Alright mate, I got it. I won't mention anything about the lazy, no good, two bit prostitute that you call a girlfriend."

Stupid boy never knew when to keep his mouth shut.

Syaoran goes for him, the anger and disgust evident on his face, but has to struggle against Eriol is now restraining him and preventing all hell from breaking loose. I'll admit, in some respects I want to Eriol to let him go so I can watch Tomasu get beaten to a pulp. But the sensible part of my brain reminds me that landing my new housemate in jail the same day I move in may make living together more awkward. I step over Tomasu's cowering form until I'm right up in Syaorans face. My arms are crossed in front of my chest and although I'm not showing it I'm fricking terrified that I won't be able to calm him down.

"It's not worth it. He's not worth it. Let's just get our things and go. I'd rather not be breathing the same air as the pond scum that's lying on the floor behind me." I look straight into his fiery amber eyes, praying that my words will get through and that he'll listen to me. I've seen people blow up like this before; it's not always easy to make them see sense, especially when said pond scum is still breathing.

I take a deep breath and place my hands on his chest, pushing against him, trying to get him away from the potential carnage. It's the first time I've ever actually really touched and I'm surprised at the sparks that seem to be flying between us. It seems to clear some of the anger and he looks down at my hands, tiny in comparison to his large muscular build. He shoots one last angry pointed look at Tomasu before grabbing my right hand and dragging me along behind him out of the building onto the sidewalk.

* * *

**_Syaoran_**

The cold air hits me like a brick wall, and I let it cool my hot temper. That jackass in there has made my blood boil, I can't remember the last time I actually wanted to beat someone to a bloody pulp. And the way he spoke to Sakura, Christ, if people spoke to me like that every time I went out I would have issues with socialising with anyone.

"What the hell!" She shouts, her anger getting the better of her. "I had it under control, you didn't need to step in and rescue me. I'm not some damsel in distress that needs to be saved." She is now full out screaming at me and I'm fighting to keep my temper under control.

"I know you had it under control, so forgive me for jumping in like I did. I just don't like anyone talking to any of my friends like that, male or female. I would have done the same thing for Eriol." My words come out calm and measured as I fight to keep a lid on my temper.

"You just need to let me fight my own battles." She replied same calm, measured tone. "But I appreciate you sticking up for me, even though you didn't have too."

I nod knowing that it's a good as apology as I'm going to get. It's only now I realise that I'm still holding her hand, we were both so riled up that neither of us had noticed. She drops it like a hot coal, making a show of rubbing her hands together like they're cold. I can still feel the warmth of her touch like she's still holding my hand and it makes me feel uneasy. She seems to be working her way into my head and I'm not sure how comfortable I am with it.

Eriol and Tomoyo come and join us a couple of moments later, Eriol shooting me a grateful look for intervening earlier before pulling Sakura to one side and talking to her.

"I know she would never say it but thank you for sticking up for her, she's not used to people sticking up for her so she doesn't know how to react." Tomoyo says quietly, her amethyst eyes seeing straight past any bullshit .

"Thanks Tomoyo, and I know her type, hell I'm one of them – I'll never back down from a fight even when I end up getting the snot beaten out of me."

Sakura and Eriol come back over, Sakura looks drained and tired, as if shouting at me has taken it out of her. I know it's just the adrenaline wearing off, but I feel bad nonetheless.

"I don't know about you guys but I'm just going to head home. I'm tired from shifting boxes round and I just want to crash out for a few hours." She states, leaving no room for argument.

Eriol and Tomoyo say their goodbyes, their evening now soured by the earlier altercation and rest of the walk home with Sakura is quiet and slightly awkward. I was sort of hoping that this stage in our friendship would not happen quite as quickly as it did, but then again put two hot tempered, stubborn individuals in a confined situation and one of us was going to end up blowing up eventually.

Getting inside she flops down on the recliner, twirling a strand of hair between my fingers something I've noticed she only does when she's upset or worried. The silence in the house is almost oppressive, neither of us willing to back down. I slump on the sofa, turning the TV on to fill the void. We both sit like that for what seems like forever, but in reality is only a couple of minutes.

"I know you can take care of yourself," I eventually say, desperate to break the silence and diffuse some of the tension. "I've just spent so many years watching people have the shit kicked out of them because they dared to stand up to the bullies and I forgot that you're one of the people that doesn't need any help to stand on her own two feet."

"Thank you," She forces out. "And I'm sorry I blew up at you after. I'm just not used to people jumping in to fight my battles for me."

"I know. Like I said, I didn't mean to imply that you can't take care of yourself. I'm just not a fan of people shooting their mouths off at my friends for no reason. Who was that guy anyway?"

She rolls her eyes, "his name is Tomasu Hiroki; he was in the year above me and captain of the football team."

"So what did you do to make him hate you as much as he does?"

"I like how you automatically assume that I did something to make him hate me." She says jokingly and I raise an eyebrow. "Fine, I kicked him in the balls when he tried to shove his tongue down my throat after a football game."

I burst out laughing and the tension in the room dissolved completely. "Why does that not surprise me?"

"Some people just drive me to violence. And men that think they can get away with taking whatever they want when they want are fall into that category," she mutters wryly. "Plus he was an over-confident jock that needed taking down a peg or two; personally I think I was doing all women everywhere a service."

"Well if you hadn't have taken him down a peg or two I can guarantee someone would have done so eventually."

"I just never understood why intelligent girls always threw themselves at men like him." Sakura muses. "It's certainly not their mental capacity. Three years later and he's still thick as pig shit, picking fights he doesn't have a hope in hell of wining. I don't see the link between catching a football and being a good boyfriend." I snort at my response, making her smirk. "You where a high school footballer weren't you?" She asks, her expression making me chuckle.

"Yes I was, I was even captain of the football team." I tease as she buries her face in her hands in shame.

We lapse back into silence, the TV blaring in the background. Sakura falls asleep after a while with CSI playing in the background. I leave her where she is, I don't want to freak her out by waking her, so I make my way to my own room, my bed calling me.

* * *

AN: as always R&R

I love reviews - they make me happy

dk xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Damaged Goods**

**Chapter Five**

**_Sakura_**

_I'm walking home from school, dawdling on my back. Things have been really weird at home and Mom's been in a stranger than normal mood the last couple of days. I think I'd give anything to avoid dealing with more issues. For once in my life I just want to be a normal teenager who's mom might shout at her for not doing her homework or staying out past curfew._

_My meandering home means I get caught in the rain, my clothes are soaking and my hair is stuck to my face in wet, limp stands. Just perfect, now I'm really going to get it in the neck when I walk in looking like I've been swimming fully clothed. _

_I climb the porch steps slowly, as if drawing it out will make it better. I wish Dad was here. He would know what to do, he would know how to make sure she took her medication and took care of herself. But me, I can barely take care of myself never mind the both of us. At least if Dad was here I could be a normal thirteen year old, safe in the knowledge that if mom started going postal he'd be there to pull me out of the way. _

_Pushing the door open, I stick my head inside, making sure the coast is clear. I don't want to be shouted at for dripping all over the floor again, last time she went ballistic, this time she'll go into meltdown. I creep in, taking my wet shoes off at the door, hoping that the lack of muddy footprints might work some way towards softening the blow. _

_She catches me as I'm unlacing my second trainer, the sharp intake of breath a warning that I'm in trouble. Looking at the floor, I notice the puddle that's pooling round my feet from my sodden clothes._

_"What the hell," she screeches, her voice high pitched and angry. "How can you possibly get in this state on a 10 minute walk home?" _

_I mumble my apologies, promising to clean up the mess that I've tracked in. But she doen't listen; she never does when she's in one of these moods. I'm trying not to get angry with her, it's not her fault that she is the way she is, but I can't help myself sometimes, and today is one of those days. The more she shouts at me the angrier I feel myself getting, I can feel the blood boiling beneath my skin and I have the urge to run out the house and keep running until I can't feel anything anymore. But I can't leave. I can't leave her, I'm all she has left. _

_I take a deep breath, trying to push the anger down. "I said I was sorry." I shout over her, "It's not my fault I got caught in the rain. There's nothing I can do about it now, but I'll tidy it up as soon as I've got changed."_

_She looks at me in shock; I think it's the first time I've spoken back to her. I normally take the 'don't say anything until she stops shouting' route, but today I'm just too tired and cold to care. _

_"Don't speak to me like that." She screams, her face turning purple. "You're nothing but trouble and I have to keep a roof over your ungrateful head. You're not even my child, there's no way my only daughter could be as ungrateful as you are. You don't even act like a girl; you spend your life under cars getting dirty. Why can't you just be like everyone else's daughter?" She's stopped shouting and is now muttering to herself. Her accusations are nothing new; I've lived with them for years. If I'm not a changeling then I'm a spy, if I'm not a spy then I'm something else. That's the problem with her illness; it twists her mind into making her believe I'm something I'm not. _

_I shuffle past her, aware that I need to take care not to interrupt her mumbling. I've spent years learning how to make these episodes as painless as possible for both of us, and trying to tell her the truth or interrupting her never ends well. _

_"If I kill her I'll get my real daughter back, won't I?" She mumbles. "Yes, I will, that makes sense. If she's not here then they have to give me back my real child. Then everything will be ok. No one will know apart from me what happened. "_

_I ignore her mumbling as I creep past, there's no way I'm going to incite her wrath when she's this strung out. It looks like I'm going to be hiding her meds in her dinner again. _

_Suddenly I'm falling, a hard shove from behind making me lose my footing. I see the hall dresser coming towards me and I push my hands out to brace myself, but it's too little too late. The corner of the dresser connects just above my eyebrow. I think I black out for a minute, but I'm not sure. I open my eyes, but quickly shut them again as the room spins out of control. My head's throbbing, sharp shots of pain radiating from what feels like everywhere. I can't get my thoughts under control, all I can think of is the pain that I'm in and that nothing makes sense. What happened? Did I trip? Was I pushed? I'm aware of a tugging sensation on my hair, but my arms aren't responding to my pleas to see what I'm caught on. The pain in my scalp becomes more prominent and I realise I'm being dragged across the floor by my hair. I'm starting to panic, my breathing is erratic and my heart is racing, each heartbeat sending another shooting pain through my head. _

_It would be so easy just to give up, to slip into unconsciousness and let the pain fade away. But despite my leaden limbs and my aching head, I know that if I do that, it will be the end of me. Never before has she laid a hand on me in violence, this is a new level of crazy, even by her standards. I'm trying to resist, but my arms and legs won't responding, my stomach is clenching, and I feel like I'm going to throw up everywhere. The room is still spinning and I can feel the blood sliding through my hair from the above my eyebrow. I can feel myself starting to slip into oblivion and I force myself not to close my eyes, knowing if I do it will all be over._

_ The tension that was pulling my hair suddenly relaxes and my skull bounces of the floor. I actually see stars, the sudden connection with the floor pushing my already battered consciousness to the edge. I can feel myself floating at the edge of the void, I feel like I'm weighed down heavy sand and I can't get my limbs to work. I can hear her muttering as she roots around for something. I manage to roll myself over, the room pitching as I collapse onto my front. That took more effort than I liked and I'm terrified that I won't be able to get away. _

_Half crawling, half stumbling I manage to wedge myself into the small kitchen pantry and pull the door shut. Fumbling around in my pockets, I eventually manage to drag my cell phone out, dialling with shaky numb fingers. _

_"911 what's your emergency" the operators voice is calm and controlled, but it does nothing to easy my terror._

_"Please help, my mother's a paranoid schizophrenic in the middle of a psychotic break. She's pushed me and I've bumped my head really hard." I am amazed how calm and collected I sound. "We live at 3365 London Road."_

_I hear a sharp intake of breath as the operator brings up the details. I know that on the records it states that there is a child that could be considered at risk in the event of an emergency. "OK, it's Sakura isn't it?" She questions. "I need to you describe what's happening. I've summoned both police and paramedics so they're on their way."_

_"Please tell them to hurry," my voice cracks. Dropping the phone I lunge for the door handle as she rattles the door from the outside, trying to get in. I'm screaming – hoping that screaming will draw someone in to help me. I'm hanging onto the door handle, trying to keep the door closed so she can't get to me, but I can't manage it. She's stronger than I am and I feel myself being dragged with the door as she pulls it open._

_She grabs my arms, her grip hard enough to leave bruises, and pulls me across the kitchen, letting me go at the last minute so I land with my back against the kitchen table. It knocks the wind out of me and I gasp, trying to force air back into my screaming lungs. Before I can move away or catch my bearings, she is upon me, a crazed spark in her steely gray eyes._

_"Please mom," I beg, my voice breaking as the sobs start. "It's me, Sakura, please don't hurt me."_

_The look in her eyes softens for a moment, and she uses a free hand to stroke my cheek. "I'm sorry my darling." She mutters. "It has to be this way; I have to set you free in order to get her back." _

* * *

I wake with a jerk, it feels like I'm being suffocated before I realise that I've got myself tangled up in the blanket that's been draped over me. My heart is racing; my breathing quick and uncontrollable and I can feel the beginnings of a panic attack, my vision going blurry at the corners. Quickly righting myself I put my head between my legs, forcing myself to breathe slowly. The panic gradually recedes, but I can still feel the pain in my head, in my chest, my pulse still racing.

When I think I've calmed down enough to stand without collapsing I look around, trying to remember where I am. I am at Syaoran's; I recognise the pictures on the wall. I must have fallen asleep on the recliner. Pushing myself out of the recliner, I stumble into the kitchen, desperate for a drink. My mouth feels woolly and full of sawdust.

Slumping against the worktop I put the glass to my lips with shaking hands, my teeth still chattering from the nightmare. I force myself to drink, knowing that the cold water will help the memories subside. Finishing my drink, I go to put it on the side but miss. In slow motion, I watch the glass as it tumbles towards the ground, too quick for me to react and catch it. It hits that floor with a bang as it splinters into hundreds of small pieces that bounce and scatter. I look around nervously hoping that I haven't woken Syaoran. I really don't want to explain to why I look as panicked and washed out as I do. I sweep the glass up, making sure to get it all in the dustpan before dumping it in the trash, conscious of the amount of noise I'm making.

I sit back in the recliner and peer at my watch in the semi-gloom of the apartment, the streetlights two floor below the only source of light. Three thirty seven AM, five and a half hours until I'm due in work.

This is going to be a very long night.

* * *

AN – I know it's a short chapter – but there will be another one up (hopefully tomorrow evening) due to me being laid up in bed with a beast of a cold and no voice

Please R&R – it would make a very sick girl very happy

dk

x


	6. Chapter 6

**Damaged Goods**

**Chapter 6**

**_Sakura_**

The next day is hell. I didn't get back to sleep last nigh and all I want to do is crawl under a workbench and sleep for a couple of hours. Then next day after is no better, nor is the day after that. My nightmares are getting worse, more frequent. I'm terrified of falling asleep, and when I eventually nod off, I'm terrified that I am going to wake Syaoran up if I start screaming.

I feel and look like a zombie. The only thing that is keeping me going is the amount of caffeine and sugar that I've consumed in a desperate attempt to keep myself awake. It's making me jittery and irritable. Mr Yataki has noticed my lack of focus at work and I'm just waiting for him to pull me up on it. I know that not sleeping like this is bad for me, and I know that the longer I put it off the worse it will be when I eventually fall asleep. But I just can't face the questions Syaoran will ask when I wake him up screaming the house down.

My skin is itching like there are thousands of bugs swarming beneath the surface, I know it's just the caffeine but I have to make an effort not to scratch a hole in myself. All I can do is scrub myself red in the shower and hope that it will put the phantom bugs to sleep.

I'm a mess – I know I'm a mess and the strain is starting to show in every interaction I have with every person I speak too. I've blown up at everyone in the garage at least twice, though I think they think I just have really bad PMS. I wish it was PMS, at least then it would go away. Finally after 4 days of biting off everyone's head Mr Yataki summons me to his office.

"Sakura, hon. I want you to take some time off." He says, bluntly but kindly. "You're no good to me in the state you're in now. Take a couple of days as holiday and go home. Try and sleep off whatever is eating you."

I nod numbly, wishing I could explain to him that sleep is the last thing I'll be thinking of doing. I know he's only trying to be kind, but what he's doing will make it worse. I'm now going to have 4 days where I have nothing to keep me occupied, nothing to keep me awake.

Syaoran's surprised to see me home early so I lie to him, telling him I've been given a couple of day's holiday cause I need to use them or lose them. I don't want to lie to him, but telling the truth is harder and I'm too strung out to have that conversation with him right now. I end up drinking more coffee until I'm practically vibrating from the caffeine intake. I can feel Syaoran watching me, he knows something is up, but he's smart enough not to say anything about it.

We hang out for a while as he's getting ready to go out. I manage to make several jokes at his expense about which poor girl he'll be turfing out in the morning but he doesn't rise to it and gives me a cheeky grin. Boy is so damn confident he's going to get laid it makes me sick, I'll give him credit, he's not ugly by any stretch of the imagination, and despite the playboy façade he's actually a good person. He never leads them on, always explains that he doesn't want or need their numbers. The problem is they always think they're going to be the ones to tame him, that they'll get to stay another night. Personally I find it kind of sickening how horrible and clingy they get the morning after – sort of makes me ashamed to be considered a girl, but then again I'm just wired differently to everyone else.

The flat is empty, quiet. It's too early to get a couple of hours sleep, but too late to call Eriol and Tomoyo and see what they're up to. I should be relishing this time on my own, but I've discovered I actually enjoy human contact and it's far easier to put off falling asleep when there's someone keeping you company. I've flicked through every TV station but there's nothing on to keep my attention, even for a microsecond. Sighing I start fiddling with my hair, trying hardest not to scratch my scars. They're really itchy today, but I know it's just the invisible caffeine bugs under my skin – I really need to lay off the coffee.

Enough is enough, the only way I'm going to keep myself awake is if I keep myself busy, and there's still a couple of boxes that need unpacking. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Unpacking always takes me ages and I always put it off in the hope that the boxes will magically unpack themselves. I'm less than 20 minutes into unpacking the first box and I'm already bored. My eyes are streaming from all the dust I've kicked up and I find myself sneezing several times in rapid successions – serves me right for never unpacking these boxes from the last time I moved

Collapsing on the floor I sigh in relief, the boxes are finally unpacked but they mock me in their still assembled form, I know I should squash them down and put them away until the next time I need them but I really can't be bothered so I just leave them languishing at the foot of the bed. I'll deal with them another day, maybe when I actually have some energy.

But urg - I feel sticky and dirty, my hair is knotted in a loose bun and I swear I can feel dust trapped in the roots. I know I need to have a shower, the thought of going to bed this caked in filth makes me shudder, but at the same time the thought of dragging myself off floor and into the bathroom seems like too much effort.

I lie there, haphazardly bent around the piles of crap that needs putting away. At least this way I'm so uncomfortable that the chances of falling asleep are slim, though not impossible. Black spots are gathering in the corners of my eyes, proof of how tired I am; this is where sleep deprivation rears its ugly head. Where I struggle to work out if I am awake or asleep, what's real and what's a dream.

I push myself out off the floor, my head spinning as I stand up. I need more coffee and a cold shower. I grab a towel of the back of the chair, trying to keep myself upright as the room spins. Stumbling towards the bathroom I stumble over my own feet as the drag behind me. Pulling of my dirty clothes, I drop them in a heap by the door and step into a cold shower, managing not to yelp as the icy needles hit my skin. The effect is almost instantaneous and I feel the fog in my brain starting to clear as the room comes back into focus. I stand under the freezing water, my face angled upwards so the spray hits my face. This means I'm now treading on dangerous ground – cold showers to shock myself back into the land of the living in an attempt to stave off sleep for another few hours.

Convinced I'm awake enough to stay conscious I step out of the shower, teeth chattering as the cold air in the bathroom hits me. I wrap the towel around me, wishing I could afford one of those big fluffy towels that you get in hotels instead of this piddly little scrap that is barely enough to keep me decent.

Going to grab my robe off the back of the door, I freeze, my arm hanging in mid air. My robe is in the washing machine where I chucked it this morning and the thought of putting dirty clothes back on makes my skin crawl. I don't have a choice; I'm just going to have to risk it and hope that Syaoran hasn't got back yet. Cracking the door open I peer out and start to edge my way back to my room, my clothes bundled strategically to cover the worst of the scars just in case.

How could I have been so stupid to not take a change of clothes in with me? I know I'm tired but it's no excuse. Being tired and unaware of my surroundings has got me into hot water before.

I don't hear the front door open and the first thing that alerts me to someone else's presence is the cold rush of air that pushes past me. I spin round, clutching the small bundle of clothes to my chest as if they might protect me from is stood in the doorway.

Stood in the doorway is Syaoran, the light bending around his muscled form. My heart rate slows, my brain realising that I'm not in any immediate danger. But then the cold breeze blows past my bare skin, causing me to shiver and I realise just how exposed I am. There's no way that he's not seen the myriad of scars crisscrossing my back. He's stood there, stock still, just looking at me, a brief look of pity flitting across his face. We both stand there, frozen. I can feel the water dripping from my soaking hair, the cold water tracing its way down arms and legs, pooling at my feet. All of a sudden it's too much, I try to stammer out something that will explain what he's just seen, but the black spots that plagued my vision earlier return en masse. I feel myself stumble against the wall as the room starts to spin and I slump to the floor.

* * *

**_Syaoran_**

I ended up calling it early on my night out with the boys, I just wasn't in the mood to stay out and get rat-arsed drunk. Moreover, Sakura is worrying me and part of me just wants to make sure that she hasn't gone off the deep end – I sound like some whipped boyfriend saying that, but there's something not right with her today.

Opening the front door I catch Sakura as she's leaving the bathroom, her small frame clad in what I can only guess to be the world's smallest bath towel. The light streaming past me from the hallway hits her back and I feel myself take a step back in shock. Deep, jagged, scars that cover her back in uneven slashes, and not just one or two, there must be at least a dozen if not more. She turns to face me and I see the scars on her arms as well. Who could have done this to her? What happened to her? I watch her recoil in horror when she realises that I've seen everything she's tried to keep hidden.

I can see the water running in rivlets down her skin and pooling at her feet. She looks up at me, and the fear I see in her eyes breaks me heart, she looks so fragile, so scared and so alone. I watch the blood drain from her face, and then in slow motion watch her slump against the wall and start sliding down it.

I run towards her, catching her head just before it hits the floor, I lift her up and I'm surprised by how tiny she is and how little she weighs, it's almost like carrying thin air. Cradling her in my arms I make my way over to the sofa and lay her down.

"Sakura," I say loudly, shaking her gently, trying to rouse her from whatever fugue state she's fallen into. I'm starting to panic, what am I supposed to do when someone just passes out in the hallway? Grabbing the blanket off the back of the sofa I drape it over her, figuring that her lying there in nothing but a towel probably isn't the best way to keep her warm. Her hair is still soaking wet so I put a towel under her hair. She's breathing and her pulse is normal, maybe a little fast but strong. I'm reaching for my phone to ring the out of hours doctor to see if there's something else I should be doing when her eyelids flutter open.

"Thank god you're awake." I say softly, hovering above her. "Jesus Sakura you scared the shit out of me. When was the last time you slept, or ate a proper meal? And before you protest sugar and coffee do not count as a meal."

She rolls her eyes at me and winces. "I'm fine. Think I just got a little lightheaded from the heat in the bathroom. It's nothing to worry about."

I raise my eyebrow at her obvious lie and force myself to keep my temper in check, because right now all I want to do is shout at her for making me worry like this. "Bullshit. I've been watching you the last couple of days. You're strung out like a junkie in need of a fix. You wander around the house throughout the night, you're tired, irritable and in need of a solid 8 hours sleep before you lose your mind. I have one question, and I need you to be brutally honest with me. Are you taking drugs?"

The shift in her body language is instantaneous and I can see the anger flashing in her eyes. "How dare you even think about asking that question," she yells, her voice ricocheting off the walls. "No I'm not on fucking drugs, I wouldn't touch the stuff, I'm not a junkie – you don't believe me then go on check my arms for track marks." She sits up, swaying as she tears the blanket off her arms, shoving them forward for me to inspect. With everything that's happened in the last couple of minutes I'd forgotten about the scars I'd seen earlier. I hear a sharp intake of breath as she realises what she's done and watch her slump against the sofa, all the rage and fight that she'd had seconds earlier draining out of her.

* * *

**_Sakura _**

I was so caught up in my anger, so enraged at his suggestion that I took drugs that I went and bared the secret that I've carried round with me for so long. I slump back into the sofa all the fight taken out of me, hot tears streaming down my face. I gather the blankets back up around me, trying to undo my actions, as if covering the scars will make them go away. I resist the urge to swipe the tears away, knowing that doing so will just reveal my arms again.

The silence is unbearable, the tension so heavy that I feel like I'm drowning beneath the unsaid words. My breathing become erratic, my heart feels like it's about to explode from my chest and the spots start to gather at the corner of my vision again. I panic more as I realise that I'm mere seconds away from a full blown panic attack. Oh god I can't do this, not now. I'm exhausted, both physically and emotionally. My vision turns to static, my head starts to spin and for a moment I really fear that I'm about to throw up everywhere.

Then there is a hand pushing me up, making me sit upright and guiding my head between my knees.

"Come on Sakura, you need to concentrate on your breathing." Syaorans voice is calm, but it barely scratches the surface of my panicking mind. He starts rubbing circles between my shoulder blades, talking to me calmly. "Breath Sakura, in and out, in and out. Come on you can do it, just concentrate on your breathing, you're OK, you're safe. Nothing is going to hurt you so you just keep breathing."

His words start to permeate the fog that's clouding my mind and I concentrate on my breathing, trying to squash the sobs that threaten to send my spinning back into a panic. Syaoran stays with me, talking to me in a calm tone, his gentle hands rubbing some of the tension out from between my shoulders. I can't remember the last time I had skin to skin contact so close to my scars, probably when I was still in the hospital.

My breathing slows somewhere close to normal, my vision is starting to clear, but I don't think there's been a time that I've felt more fractured than I do right now. Slowly I start to raise my head, wiping the tears away from my face I shiver violently as my body comes back down from the assault it's just put itself through. Syaoran moves away and my skin mourns the loss of contact as he removed his hand from my back. I lower my head into my hands, digging my nails into my scalp, resisting the urge to tear my hair from my head. The cold air on my bare back makes me cringe as I realise he's been staring at, and touching, the scars on my back for however long it's taken me to calm the hell down.

I jump as something brushes over my shoulders, breaking my from my morbid thoughts.

"Calm down Sakura," Syaoran says calmly, "it's only me. I bought you another blanket because you where shivering."

I'm touched by his concern, I always imagined that if anyone saw my scars they would run away, trying to escape the horrors etched on my skin. But Syaoran isn't most people, he's damaged as well, and misery loves company.

Syaoran squats down in front of me and looks me straight in the eyes, smiling weakly as he mutters the words everyone dreads to hear. "We need to talk."

I tense up at his words, my hands trembling. Talking is the last thing I want to do right now, my mind is in bits and I don't know if I'll be able to string a coherent sentence together. I look up at him, my eyes struggling to focus on his. I manage a weak smile, hoping that it will keep him at bay. "Syaoran, I know we need to talk, but my brain is fried." My words are slightly slurred, a side effect of starving myself from a proper night's sleep. I see a small frown pucker between his eyes, forming a perfect V. I squint, trying to make the world come more into focus. "Don't make a sad face Syaoran," I say, punctuating my statement with a yawn as I pitch backwards slightly.

"You are impossible," Syaoran huffs quietly, steadying my swaying form with his hands and laying me back down on the sofa gently. I murmur in agreement, too tired to argue. He settles on the floor, his back leaning against the sofa, his head resting near my stomach. "I'm going to put the TV on for a bit, ok?"

He turns the TV on and the light flickers in the otherwise dark room. I am fighting to stay awake again but everything is starting to blur. I don't want to fall asleep, I'm terrified that I'll wake up screaming, my mind is too fragmented to protect me from my memories. But my body and my brain are craving sleep even though I'm forcing my eyes to stay open. This lying down business is not helping so I shift myself to a sitting position, the room spinning as I right myself. Syaoran is up in a flash, steadying me as a sway.

"Sakura what the hell are you doing." His words are clipped, his frustration leaking through. "You need to sleep, you're running on empty."

"Can't." I manage to force out. "Sleep is a bad idea."

He rolls his eyes, the small V between his eyes getting more pronounced. "You can't keep going on like this." He sighs, shifting himself so he is sat next to me on the sofa. "You're going to do yourself some real harm Sakura. The human brain isn't designed to stay awake for this long, you will make yourself ill."

I shake my head, the movement setting off another round of dizziness. "I'm fine." I push myself up so I'm standing, wobbling unsteadily on my legs, the blankets gathered round me like a shroud. "I don't need to sleep, I need coffee."

Syaoran grabs my hands and pulls me back down to the sofa. "Will you just sit down before you fall down, for god's sake?" I struggle weakly against him, but my energy is all but spent. "I'll get you a drink, but there is no way you're having anymore coffee. You're going to give yourself an ulcer if you keep shovelling that much down your throat."

I slump back into the sofa as he makes his way into the kitchen, blinking rapidly even though my eyes feel gritty. Pulling at the blankets, I tighten them around me, hoping that somehow the layers will chase out the cold chill that seems to be settling on me.

Syaoran returns a couple of minutes later, a mug of hot cocoa in his hand. I clasp it between my cold fingers inhaling deeply, wishing that it was coffee. Syaoran perches next to me his eyes watching my every move. He's wound tight, waiting for me to freak out or lash out at him. But I don't have the energy to do anything other than drink the steamy hot cocoa and hope it warms me up from the inside.

"Syaoran you don't need to stay with me." I snap bluntly, "I'm not going to go postal or freak out or anything." He stared at me, his stormy eyes clouding.

"I know I don't have to stay here, but it's my apartment, it's 10:30 on a Friday night and there's a film on the TV I want to watch starting in half an hour." He replies sharply. I throw my arms up in frustration at his tone and his words. I don't need a glorified babysitter and I'm starting to get ratty. On the bright side, I'm starting to wake up as my temper starts to fray.

Muttering a few choice words under my breath I slump back against the sofa, focusing on the TV with too much intent as I try and ignore the fact that he's sat so close to me, making me a uncomfortable and edgy. If I had the energy I would move to the recliner, but it seems far way away from where I'm currently sat and I don't think I can gather the inclination to move. The tension in the room is unbearable and I feel horrible for it. This is all my fault. If I could just keep my shit together then this wouldn't be happening and I wouldn't feel like a stranger in the apartment.

* * *

**_Syaoran_**

I shouldn't have snapped at her the way I did, but the damn girl has got me worried sick and it's such an alien feeling that I'm not really sure what to do.

"Syaoran," She startles me, her tone soft. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lash out at you or drag you into this shit that I've got going on."

I lean forward, my elbows resting on my knees and let out a deep breath, my shoulders sinking down. "It's ok. I just wish you would talk to me or something. I know it's none of my business but something is eating you up inside and it's not good for you to try to avoid whatever it is by refusing to sleep."

She shakes her head at me, her eyes fixed firmly on the floor. I can tell she's scared, her stance says it all and I'm terrified that she's going to run out on me if I keep digging.

"I'm not going to pry Sakura, don't worry. Everyone has skeletons in their closets, some of us just happen to have the equivalent of a graveyards worth of skeletons but that's just the way it is." She smiles at my comparison. "If you want to talk about it then you can, if you don't then you don't. But I need to know what you need me to do when you start wandering round like a zombie."

"I know, thank you." She croaks out as she starts to stand up, I move to stand but she shoots me down. "Sit down, I need to go put some clothes on, under all these blankets all I'm wearing is a towel. If we're going to watch a film I'll feel a little better if I'm wearing real clothes instead of layers of blankets."

She stumbles off, leaving me alone to think for a moment. This night has turned into a monumental head-fuck of an evening. I knew Sakura had some dark stuff in her past, but those scars are something else. It's like someone tried to butcher her with a bread knife. I can still see the criss-crossing pattern across her upper back, and the thick gouges that line her arms. She's been through her own personal hell and back again, and as much as I want to know what happened to her I know how hard it is to open up when something really fucked up happened to you in your past.

First things first though, she needs to eat something that isn't comprised of pure sugar, and I'm pretty hungry anyway so I chuck a couple of pizzas in the over along with some potato wedges figuring the carbs will do her good. Grabbing a couple of bottles of soda I make my way back over to the sofa, flopping down next to Sakura.

* * *

**_Sakura_**

Syaoran obviously hears my stomachs complaints and raises an eyebrow. "I've put Pizza in the oven as well, don't know about you but I'm starving." I manage a weak smile as my mouth waters at the thought of hot melted cheese sticking to the roof of my mouth.

The film Syaoran wanted to watch is one of my favourites that Dad and I used to watch before, well before everything went pear shaped. We eat pizza and burning the roof of my mouth is strangely pleasurable. Laughing at the absurdity of my thoughts, I push everything else to one side and concentrate on the film. My eyes start drooping half way through and again I find myself battling sleep, my determination to stay awake keeping me semi-conscious. But the film stopped making sense, the words and actions blurring together in a montage of colour and sound. I'm aware of my body sliding into a more comfortable position and when I finds something comfortable to rest against I give in to its demands for sleep.

* * *

AN: See this is what being cooped up ill does to me - it makes me write stupid amounts

Please R&R - it's always appreciated

dk x


	7. Chapter 7

AN: So sorry I didn't get round to posting a new chapter last week - here's a nice extra long one that should answer some of the questions that keep popping up about Sakura's past.

Also a huge thank you to all that have reviewed so far – it really makes my day to know that people are enjoying this enough to leave a review. So thank you to **Weetziebat613, Fashion Fairy 26, Misspokey 101, Enilezah and Rinail **for leaving reviews over the last 6 chapters – I hope this lives up to your expectations.

And to everyone else who reads and doesn't review – thank you for just reading and not flaming me for my terrible ramblings :)

So on with the story

**Damaged Goods**

**Chapter 7**

**_Sakura_**

_The light is too bright and it makes my eyes sting. I can smell the harsh aroma of antiseptic and the sheets that cover me scratch at my skin. The room slowly starts to come into focus, white walls, white ceiling and I have no idea where I am. My head is throbbing. What happened? Where am I? My mouth feels like someone has shoved cotton wool in it, my arms are heavy by my side, unresponsive to any commands._

_"Oh, you're awake," an unfamiliar voice perks up. "Now don't worry love, you're in the hospital, you had a bit of an accident but we've stitched you back up."_

_"Thirsty." I manage to force out past the barbed wire that's lodged in my throat._

_The woman I assume is a nurse hovers over me, a glass with a straw in it and lets me drink. The water is cool and refreshing and I have to stop myself from gulping it all down. "Slowly," she admonishes as I choke and start coughing. I dart my eyes around the room, how did I end up in hospital? I can't remember what happened before I woke up. The nurse turns to leave, muttering about fetching the doctor to check me over._

_I watch the rain pounding against the window, remembering the walk home. It was raining and I was soaked to the bone. I can remember it so clearly that I shiver as though I'm still in my wet clothes. What happened next? I huff in frustration and try to sit up, my back screaming in protest. Man that really hurts, was I hit by a car? No, it wasn't that. Holding my hands up I look at the bandages. They are stark and white, almost blending in with my pale skin. I move my fingers, checking that they're stilll working. They are. My arms are stinging beneath the bandages and I wish I could rip them to see what's lurking underneath. _

_The doctor comes in next and shines a pen light in my eyes, the sudden assault on my senses causing my head to throb uncontrollably. A flash of memory assaults me, lying on the hallway floor, my head spinning and throbbing almost as badly as it does now. But them I'm pulled back into the present by the doctor asking me questions. _

_"Ok Sakura, how are you feeling?"_

_I shoot him a questioning look. "I feel like I've been hit by a bus. What happened?"_

_He deliberately avoids my question. "Any dizziness, blurry vision?"_

_I shake my head slowly, "no but my head is killing me. What happened?"_

_"That's because you have a concussion as well as a nasty cut above your eyebrow. What do you remember?"_

_The doctor is starting to piss me off with his evasive answers. "I don't remember anything." I snap. "That's why I keep asking you what happened. Where's my mom?"_

_A look of pity crosses the doctors' face and my heart plummets. Where is she? What's she's done now? I'm battering against the block in my memory that's stopping me from remembering what happened._

_The doctor is droning on in the background. I hear him mention mother, residential psychiatric ward, sedation, but his words are jumbled together as I cling to the few flashes of memories that I've remembered so far. I was walking home, it was raining, I got caught in the rain. I must have made it home because I remember lying on the hall floor, my head throbbing. Did I slip? No it wasn't that, a slip at home wouldn't land me in here unless I'd fallen down the stairs and somehow I know I didn't go upstairs. I look at my arms encased in bandages, ok so what happened to my arms? I hold them up slightly, looking at them intently as if my memories are going to jump from them and tell me the truth. I remember holding my arms up, then there was pain, what happened to cause the pain. _

_My eyes widen as I'm the floodgates to my memories open. I had gotten home; Mom was going mad at me because I'd dripped water all over the floor. Then she pushed me, the damn bitch pushed me, and I hit my head as I fell forward. I was dizzy, confused and she dragged me to the kitchen, by my hair. I put my hands on the back of my head where I feel I lump; I wince as I probe at it with my fingers. The doctor is looking at me with wary eyes as I silently inspect my injuries. Ok so my throbbing head I can explain. But the bandages on my arms, and on further inspection the bandages covering my upper back - what happened there? My skin itches and stings bandages, scrapes from the fight? No it feels deeper than that, the skin feels tight, like it's been stretched over a wound. _

_A flash of silver in my peripheral vision makes me start, it's the light reflecting off the Nurses nametag, but my reaction triggers another memory. I was bent backwards over the table, my mother was straddled over me, and she was angry, furious even with a mad glint in her eyes that I was familiar with. I was sobbing, begging her to let me go, trying to get through to her and explain that I wasn't who she thought I was. She raised her right arm up, and the light glinted off the knife she held in her hand. I'd started screaming, terrified that she was going to kill me this time. I raised my arms as she started to swing at me wildly, the knife cutting through the skin on my forearms, the pain searing through me, making me scream louder. I'm so trapped in my memory that I don't realise that I'm shaking violently until the doctor touches me. I flinch, scrambling backwards on the bed until I'm curled up by the headboard. I'm screaming, half trapped in the memory, half in the present. I start pulling at the bandages. I need to see what is underneath them, what damage has been inflicted on me. I'm going into full blown panic and both the doctor and nurse move to restrain me. I start thrashing around, not caring that I'm causing myself more pain trying to escape them. I'm screaming bloody murder, I can hear the doctor calling for some assistance and two burly orderlies run in to restrain me. I feel a scratch on my arm and suddenly I feel like I'm swimming through mud, my limbs have turned to jelly and I stop struggling just as the darkness engulfs me._

* * *

"Sakura, wake up," a voice penetrates through my sleep-addled brain. My limbs ache and I know I have been struggling sleep. I force my eyes open, it is still dark, the TV is still on, the sound turned low. My heart is pounding, my breathing fast and panicked. I take a moment to get my bearings, I'm on the sofa, the blanket is tangled up around my legs and I'm leaning at an odd angle. I scramble backwards when I realise that I've been leaning on Syaoran, my body protesting at the sudden lack of human contact.

He eyes me warily from his end of the sofa, keeping his distance, making sure not to invade my personal space. "Are you ok?"

I start to nod just as the tears start to well up, my vision blurring. I end up shaking my head, I'm really not OK, and I am so tired and so fed up of constantly being stuck in the past. I'm fed up with never being able to sleep or interact with people normally because I don't trust them. All in all, I'm just tired of the whole charade of pretending that I'm ok when I'm really not.

"I'm sorry," I blurt out, "it's not normally this bad, I don't normally break down crying and I don't make a habit of passing out in the hall wearing nothing more than a bath towel."

Syaoran sighs and shifts so he's turned around facing me, one leg up on the sofa, bent at the knee with his arm casually resting on it. "Will you please stop apologising, you've got nothing to apologise for."

His words set off another round of tears and I press the jumper-covered heels of my hands into my eyes trying to stem the tears. I feel so helpless, I've not cried in ages, and I've definitely not cried in front of anyone since I got out of hospital. I choke back a sob that threatens to erupt out of my throat.

"Sakura," he starts before sighing, obviously struggling with the right words to say. "You don't need to worry about any of that, I just need to know when things are getting really rough so I can be there for you. I know you're not much of the touchy feely type, but you're still a friend and I don't want you hurting yourself unnecessarily just because you're too stubborn to ask for help."

I smile weakly at his concern before my face creases into a sob. I bury my face into my knees and wrap my arms around myself as if I can hold the pain in, that I can stop the sobs from escaping. But it doesn't help, not really. I've been bottling it up for far too long, pushing myself to close to the edge, hell I've practically been dangling over the edge, grasping to the ledge with my finger tips.

Syaoran shifts closer and gathers me into his arms, forcing me to unknot my limbs from around myself. I press my face into his chest, breathing in his scent as I bite back the wave of tears that threatens to break through. He puts his chin on my head and runs his fingers through my hair, my body responding to the simple touch by sobbing. I don't remember the last time someone held me when I had a meltdown – probably no one since my father ever has. It makes me cry more, knowing that someone other than Eriol cares for me and my wellbeing. This is why I don't let myself get close to anyone, especially those that threaten to knock down the walls that I've thrown up around myself. I can feel them being chipped away at by his kind, attentive nature. I feel like he's undoing me.

He holds me until I peel myself away from him, grimacing at the wet patch I've left in the middle of his t-shirt. Wiping my face with the sleeves of my jumper I sniffle, determined not to break into fresh round of tears.

"Don't even think about saying sorry." He starts with a smirk, "a wet patch on my t-shirt isn't something you should be apologising for."

"I wasn't going to apologise," I mumble as I grope around the coffee table looking for the box of tissues, I need to blow my nose before I snot all over my jumper. That coupled with my puffy eyes isn't going to win me any beauty awards. To my dismay they're not on the table so I push myself off the sofa, wobbling as the blood rushes away from my head. Syaoran shoots up to steady me, but I wave him away, he's done enough for me today and I'm pretty sure I can manage to stumble through to the kitchen on my own.

I grab some kitchen towel off the holder and I brace myself against the counter as another dizzy spell assaults me. Stupid dizzy spells are starting to piss me off now, all I need is some coffee and enough time to gather my thoughts together and I'll be fine. I'm staring at the kitchen wall, trying to piece everything together, but the only thing I can remember clearly was the expression on his face. I can't remember anyone but Eriol ever looking at me with that much concern, and this is someone who's a near stranger to me, in relative terms anyway.

"Sakura, are you alright," Syaoran says softly from behind me. "You're staring a little bit too intently at the wall."

"I'm fine, was just thinking about," I pause, unsure of what to say. How do I try and explain that I was about to start thinking about all the ways that this flat sharing may be going down a more complicated route than I can deal with. "nothing," I finish lamely, not willing to entertain the thought that's pushing at the forefront of my mental barrier. I grab a glass of water, wishing it was coffee but knowing that I won't get away with it in my current state. Turning round, the glass shaking slightly in my hands, I lean against the counter, the cool sharp edge biting through my sweats, giving me something to focus on.

I raise my chin, defiantly, knowing that I've been skirting the conversation that I couldn't avoid forever. His face is shrouded in shadows, the dim light filtering through from the living room the only source of light. His features are soft but hard at the same time, his posture tense. It's almost like he's gearing up for either the mother of all arguments or to stop me from bolting. But I'm too tired to deal with either and for the first time I'm considering just sinking down on the floor, burying my head in the sand and hoping that it just all disappears.

I can feel myself sagging more and more against the counter, the weight of all my secrets driving me down into the ground. But still he stands there, patiently, not harassing me or making small talk to fill the emptiness. I will not start crying again, doesn't matter how many pity filled looks he throws at me when I tell him the story, I will not cry.

* * *

**Syaoran**

Sakura looks broken, and it's tearing at my heart, even though I know it shouldn't. She looks so small and the spark that was there when I first met her seems to have dimmed over the course of the evening.

"As fun as it is having a staring contest with you, you need to sit down before you either fall down or fall apart." I say gently, shepherding her back into the living room and back to her next on the sofa. She practically falls onto the sofa, drawing her knees up to her chest and burying her feet under the blanket. I sit down next to her, mindful to keep my distance so she doesn't feel crowded and hand her back her glass of water from earlier. She accepts it, her hands are still shaking.

We both start talking at the same time, out words tangling up so neither of us hears what the other is trying to say. She waits, letting me go first.

"Look Sakura," I say, trying to fathom the right words to say. "I know that at some point some shit happened to you, shit happened to me too but I think I got off lightly in comparison. You don't have to tell me – it's not a prerequisite of our friendship or of you staying here. But at the same time I can't stand to one side and watch you turn yourself into a zombie over something I don't understand. I'm not asking for the nitty gritty, I don't need to know every details, but I need to know what I can do to help you. I know I've already said this to you this evening, and I know I'm just repeating myself, but I need you to know that I'm not going to chuck you out. Sure I'm going to freak out if I find you lying sprawled on the hall floor or when you're obviously having a bad dream that I can't get you to wake up from, so I need you to help me out here, tell me what you need me to do." I take a deep breath, grateful that she's let me say my piece without interrupting. Already I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders, and I can see the same in her now she's safe in the knowledge that I'm not going to throw her out.

"The scars," She start, obviously forcing the words out. "They were inflicted by my mother." I can't help but take a sharp intake of breath at the shock that a parent could do something like that to their own child. "She wasn't a bad mother for all intensive purposes, she just had really bad days some of the time. She has paranoid schizophrenia and one day she just snapped. The scars are her gift to me to carry around for the rest of my life. They remind me that I can't let my guard down around anyone, even those people that I'm supposed to trust, that are supposed to love me unconditionally and never hurt me." I stop myself because now I'm babbling at him. She stops, looking up at me through her eyelashes, a look of resignation at the obviously shocked expression that's currently plastered on my face.

We sit in silence for a while as I try to absorb everything she's just told me. I knew that something bad had happened to her, and I knew that she'd been in care, but knowing the whole story is heartbreaking.

"So the scars, on your arms and back, they were because of your mother?" I can hear the pity in my voice, and I know that she hates it when people feel sorry for her, but I just can't help myself. "How bad was it?"

"Fourteen lacerations that required stitches, 109 stitches in total, a cracked rib, severe concussion and too many small cuts to count," She say dejectedly, recounting the injuries from memory. "Plus the mental damage as well, PTSD, night terrors and chronic insomnia due to my fear of sleeping because of the night terrors."

She's avoiding looking at me, and I know why, it's the same reason I avoid looking at people when I tell them about what happened to my family. She doesn't want to see that look of pity that people have when something so terrible has happened to you that they count their blessings. I exhale, a long slow shaky breath as I try to work my way through everything she's just told me. Looking over at her I can see her poised to bolt at my next question

"Where's your mother now?" I ask hesitantly.

"She's serving time in maximum security psychiatric ward for aggravated assault. Last I heard she's staying on her meds and showing some positive progress." She says emotionlessly.

"Do you ever go see her?"

She sucks a short breath in through her teeth, making a high whistling sound. "No – I've never been to see her. The last time I saw her she was being restrained by two policemen screaming that she had to kill me as I lay half conscious in a pool of my own blood. The doctors think that if I visit her that it might set her off again, she's never shown any remorse for what she did to me and I'm not all that keen on spending time in the same room as a woman who would quite happily see me dead."

The silence in the room is deafening, all I can hear is the blood rushing through my ears and the uneasy rasp of Sakura's breathing. I know what I'm about to ask her is a big ask, but part of me needs to know just how bad it is.

"Will you show me the scars?" I try and keep my voice gentle and soothing. "You don't have too, but I want you to be comfortable in this house and not feel like you have to cover yourself up if it's just the two of us here."

She lets out a deep breath as she turns slightly. She keeps her arms in the sleeves but pulls the neck of the jumper over her head so that it's bunched up around her chest. She leans forward, and even in the dim light of the apartment the scars are obvious. I can see the goose bumps erupt across her shoulders as the cool air hits her skin.

I shift so I'm sat right behind her and my eyes trace the lines that mar her pale skin. I can count 8 large, thick jagged scars, the edges puckered from the stitches that put her back together. Then there are countless thin spidery white lines that radiate from the larger scars, too many to count. Hesitantly I raise my hand up to the largest scar, the pads of my fingers tracing the thick line. She jumps at the sudden and unexpected contact and I withdraw my hand quickly, worried that I've crossed an invisible line.

"Sorry," I mutters, "I didn't mean to startle you."

She turns her head and offers me a weak smile. "It's ok, it's just that no-ones touched my back since this happened, I just wasn't expecting it."

"How old were you?" I ask, wondering how long she's gone without human contact.

"I was 14." She says resignedly, a sad expression crossing her features.

"There's more isn't there?" I question. She nods my head in response and slowly shifts so that she facing me. Gingerly she removes her arms from her jumper, pushing them forward so I can see them in the dim light.

I look at her arms, in some respects they seem worse that the ones on her back. There are only a few deep ones, one running from elbow to wrist, but the number of small silvery scars that span her arms are impossible to count.

"People sometimes assume that this is self inflicted. I spent years having people call me an attention seeker, suicidal, crazy, so in the end it was just easier to keep them hidden." She says quietly, offering me some insight into how difficult things got, even after she's fully healed. She won't look at me, her head is tilted down, her hair creating a veil between us.

"Sakura," I start slowly, putting my finger under her chin and forcing her to raise my head and look at me. "What happened wasn't your fault and you don't have to hide them if you don't want to when you're at home."

"I know I don't have to hide, but it's easier that dealing with all the hushed whispers and sly looks. That's my choice that I've made." She states effectively closing the conversation.

I sit back and cross my arms, looking pointedly at her. "Ok I know the end of a discussion when I hear one, but I'm being serious when I say if you want to wander round the house in a t-shirt or bath town or whatever takes your fancy I'm not going to judge you.

"Thank you Syaoran – that means a lot." She sniffs and rubs her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to erase the tears that are welling up. "Look I'm going to turn in for the night, sleep or no sleep I need to lie down and let my brain process everything for a while so I'll see you in the morning."

She shuffles of to her bedroom, closing the door behind her and leaves me sat on the sofa. I put my head in my hands and wonder how it is that two broken people like us ever have a chance of leading normal lives.

* * *

AN: If I'm being honest (and I usually am) - I found that a really difficult chapter to write because I was constantly welling up (I'm a massive sap).

As always - please R&R

dk


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Thank you for all the reviews – they really made my Sunday :) – so big thank you to **XxXDDXxX,** **Rinail** (I loved your rant – and totally agree with you**!) Enilezah, fabian1nina1, Fashion Fairy 26** and **BloodRose**

Here's a little shorty as a thank you – and I promise I'll reveal what happened to Syaoran soon(ish)

** Damaged Goods**

Chapter 8

**_Syaoran_**

Things were a little weird between the two of us for a couple of days, in all honesty I think we were avoiding each other whilst everything sank in. Even now I still can't believe that someone would do that to someone else, never mind a parent inflicting that kind of damage on their own child. Sakura I think was avoiding me because she was ashamed of what happened to her and then ashamed that she went a little nuts on me. But after a couple of days of tiptoeing around each other we just put it behind us and moved on, something I guess we've both been doing our whole lives.

So now things are back to normal, which roughly translates to us constantly fighting and going for each others throats.

"You're an ass." She shouts as she launches the dishtowel at me. "What makes you think you have the right to tell me what I can and can't do?"

I sigh, wishing I'd kept my mouth shut and pull at my hair in frustration. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do Sakura. I'm making a suggestion that you're blowing out of proportion."

She rolls her eyes at me, her arms crossed, her stance showing she's gearing up for a fight. "It's not a suggestion, it's more like a dictation! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have a crowded room go silent when you take your sweater off? I'll tell you - it's mortifying! People look at me like I'm crazy, like I might have inflicted this on myself. And the people that don't think that – well they look at you with pity, and that's worse than people thinking you're crazy!"

"I know what pity feels like," I shout back. "You're not the only person who had a shitty childhood. You're having a go at me for making a suggestion – it's not like I'm dragging you out of the house wearing a bikini, I'm just suggesting that it wouldn't kill you to leave the house wearing a t-shirt. People are less likely to freak out if you stop hiding under baggy jumpers the whole time."

This time she launches a plate at my head, I duck and it shatters against the wall behind me, the fragments raining down around me. Christ, I never thought it would come to this, all I did was suggest that she wear the t-shirt I bought her for her birthday seeing as we were going out to meet Eriol and Tomoyo, but she's decided to blow up and turn what should have been a civilised discussion into world war three.

"Now you're just being an insensitive shit-head," she screams as she stomps off to her bedroom slamming the door with enough force to knock one of the pictures off the wall.

Part of me is tempted just to fuck off and go meet Eriol and Tomoyo on my own, screw Sakura and her hissy fit. But a larger part of me knows that if I go and we don't try and fix this stupid argument that it will just continue when I get back.

* * *

**_Sakura_**

He knocks on the door and I reward him with a 'Fuck off'. I don't want to speak to him, hell I don't even want to see him. I'm starting to question how the hell I ended up living with such an insensitive asshole. It's not enough that I've shared some of my deepest darkest secrets with him, he now expects me to share them with the rest of the world. Well no thanks, I think I'll pass on the judgmental pitying looks and hide myself behind layers of baggy clothes, it's worked pretty well for me the last 4 years.

I hear him slide down the other side of the floor and thump his head against it in frustration. "I'm sorry Sakura," he says quietly. I can picture him now, his position mirroring mine, arms slung casually over his knees. "I know I can be the world's biggest ass most of the time, I didn't mean to make you angry."

I grind my teeth, fighting against the urge to shout and scream some more. But it's hopeless, I'm too angry to accept his apology. Picking myself up off the floor I stride across my room and pick the poor innocent t-shirt that started this argument up, open the door and throw it in his face, slamming the door with a resounding bang just to punctuate how pissed off I am at him.

"Come on Sakura," he pleads through the door. "This was a gift, you're not supposed to throw it back in my face."

I snort in righteous indignation. "I told you stuff about me that I've not shared with anyone before and you're throwing that back in my face. You're such a hypocrite!" I'm close to screaming at him again, a regular occurrence.

I hear something crash in the front room, great, he's got to the throwing things in anger stage of our arguments in record timing.

I crash onto my bed, ignoring the masses of clothes that gets displaced as I flop down. Sometimes us living together is the worst thing in the world, the arguments are almost constant, almost always over the little things that just piss both of us off. But then we get these arguments where we scream at each other over something that matters to one of us.

The longer I lie there thinking about it the more I realise that I'm the one that's over-reacted this time. All he did was ask it I was going to wear the t-shirt when we went out. He didn't mention anything about not wearing something to cover up my arms. I jumped to the conclusion that he was trying to force me out of my comfort zone and in the end I've just ended up making a mountain out of a molehill.

Sighing in resignation, I know I have to be the bigger person time. Grabbing a long sleeved top out of the dresser, I pull it over my head, wincing as my hair gets tangled in the stringy bits that keep clothes on hangers. I'm hopelessly tangled up, even after try, so I try to take the top back off in the hopes that I can untangle myself. Now I'm just stuck with a top half on and half off, wandering round blind as I try to wrestle it off my head. Well bollocks to this! I'm going to have to ask for help or spend the remainder of the evening locked in my room.

I manage to navigate my way back to my bedroom door without causing myself any serious injury, but it's a reminder that I really need to tidy up before I cause myself a mischief. I slam into the door handle, misjudging its proximity due to my lack of sight. A colourful string of swearing erupts as I rub my side, that's going to leave a bruise. Managing to get through the door and into the hall I give up and sit down.

"Syaoran" I call from my prone position. "Need a little help please." I know he's not gone out because I didn't hear the front door go, well at least I hope he hasn't gone out cause if he has I'm in trouble till he gets home. His heavy footfalls confirm that he is indeed still in the house, along with the snort as he tries to hold back his laughter.

"What the hell?" He questions, his voice cracking confirming his silent laughter.

"I've got my hair caught in the silly stringy bits and I couldn't get it untangled and now I'm stuck." I bite out, trying not to sound like I'm moaning. "I can't see what I'm doing to untangle myself so please will you stop laughing and give me a hand."

"Why are you sat on the floor?" He questions helping me up so he can assess the damage.

"Didn't want to crash into anything else and give myself anymore bruises." I mutter, my body reacting to his close proximity. I'm reminded of the time I watched his deft fingers untangle the ball of cables I thrust at him. I really hope he's gentler on my hair than he was on the cables.

"You're knotted up good." He states, "I'm going to have to cut these tags off so I can untangle your hair."

"Just don't cut my hair off or I'll have your bollocks on a platter," I growl. Stupid tags and stupid hair for getting all tangled up. I'm rewarded with a long suffering sigh and I can imagine him rolling his eyes at my statement.

"I'm not going to cut your hair off you moron, now stay still cause if you wiggle when I'm snipping it's not my fault if your hair ends up on the floor."

I sit stock still, listening to the quiet snip of the scissors and his steady breathing. I hear him put the scissors down and resume his ministrations to remove the string from my hair. It amazes me how gentle he's being, if it was me I would have just ripped it out by now and probably a nice chunk of hair to go with it. I sigh at the gentle pressure on my scalp as he tugs gently to untangle it. It's actually nice having someone touching my hair and a rarity due to my distaste of having people in my personal space. I think the last person to touch my hair was my mom before she went crazy, but I'm not travelling down that road right now, that's a door that too many memories lurk behind.

His body is pressed to my side and I'm aware of the warmth that's pouring off him, making me shudder slightly. Sometimes it scares me how much my body reacts to his presence. I don't like it, I don't like my body deciding that after a couple of years in hibernation that it's alright to come out and look for the nearest viable male to jump on. Stupid hormones.

After a couple of uncomfortable minutes I'm untangled, I take a step away, desperate to get some distance and clarity. Pulling my top back down over my head I wince as I catch my arm on my freshly bruised side.

"What have you done to yourself this time?" Syaoran questions, noticing me wince. I shrug trying to dissuade him as he comes closer but as always he ignores me. "Let me have a look."

I sigh as I lift up one side of my top, showing him my new bruise which is quickly swelling and purpling. "It's nothing, I just walked into the door handle as I was wandering round with my top over my eyes. Now where's my damn t-shirt so we can go out and meet up with Eriol and Tomoyo."

Syaoran rolls his eyes as he hands my me t-shirt, I know he's waiting for an apology and now I feel a little awkward given our close proximity and my lack of apology. For Pete's sake the guy just untangled me from my top and I can't even offer an apology for being the world's biggest bitch. I pull the t-shirt over my head, muttering 'I'm sorry' quietly, hoping that he'll accept it and not pull a face at me for not being man enough to apologise to his face. His smirk says it all when I eventually get my head through the collar.

"Sorry Sakura, didn't quite hear that."

"You heard it fine well." I retort sticking my tongue out. "You just want me to say it again."

He nods, waiting for my apology as I scuff my toes on the floor. "Ok I'm sorry I turned into uber bitch again. I shouldn't have blown up at you like that."

He gives me a weak smile, "Sakura, we really need to stop blowing up at each other all the time. I know I'm not the easiest person to get along with some of the time, but this really isn't good for either of us."

My stomach plummets, thinking that he's going to ask me to move out. God I knew things were bad, but I didn't realise I'd been wearing him down that much.

"I know," I say weakly, "I can start looking for somewhere else to move if you think it's for the best."

* * *

**_Syaoran_**

When I started this conversation this wasn't the direction I expected it to go in. The last thing I wanted her to think was that I was asking her to leave – far from it.

"Oh god, no," I start, furiously backpeddling. "I'm not asking you to move out."

The look of relief that crosses her face makes me feel bad for bringing it up in the first place. "What I was going to suggest was maybe we should try talking things out rather than flinging dinner plates around," I say wryly in reference to her earlier show of aggression. "I know I get mad easy, and I know sometimes when I get mad I launch things across the room, but I don't want you to think that I'm ever going to throw anything at you, or even near you."

"I know you're not going to do anything like that." She placates in soothing tones. "If I thought you were ever going to hurt me I would be out of here quicker than you can blink. And I know I shouldn't have thrown the plate at you – I over reacted. I promise in future that I will make an attempt to talk to you before I start screaming at you, but I need the same from you in return. We both have short tempers, so we're bound to blow up at each other some of the time. But I promise I'll make a conscious effort not to go sick at you for nothing."

I smile, grateful that we've managed to avoid an argument just through discussing avoiding arguments – how messed up is that?

"Come on, we better get a move on before Tomoyo breaks down the door wondering where we are."

She jams her feet into her old doc's that have permanent residence by the front door and ties her wayward hair up in a messy bun. "Who's can are we taking?" She asks. "Cause I swear to god if you start making out with someone and then forget to give me a lift home again I will string you up!"

I laugh at her assumption that I'm going to pull when going out for a few drinks with some friends. "Ok well we'll take your car then. Even if I do meet someone at least you've got a way to get back."

"Fine, but you're not making out with some random in the back of my baby!"

"Now would I ever disrespect your beautiful car in that manner?" She refuses to dignify my statement with an answer and just raises a pointed eyebrow at me. "Come on let's go inject some fun into those lovebirds insufferable existences!"

* * *

**AN**: Like I said – only a short one. I just wanted to highlight that it's not all sunshine and roses between the two of them. Plus there was a little hint about Syaoran's past – but I will reveal more in the coming chapters.

dk


	9. Chapter 9

AN:As always massive thank you's to the people who reviewed – Fashion Fairy 26 and XxXDDxXx (could have sworn it was more than 2 – but I'm happy I got 2!). So hope you enjoy this and please please please review – I'll be over the moon if I can get 5 for this chapter

This chapter should have been up Friday...but it was much harder to write than I'd anticipated. I've written, then re-written parts of it several times and I'm finally happy to post it - I just hope it lives up to your expectations.

**Damaged Goods**

**Chapter 9**

**_Sakura_**

I wake up in a cold sweat, my breathing quick and panicked. It takes me a moment to remember where I am. I must have fallen asleep watching a film with Syaoran and I can feel his eyes watching me as I try to gather my thoughts. I concentrate on trying to control my breathing, conscious of the fact I'm sprawled over the majority of the sofa in an undignified position - hell I think I look like a squashed frog. Wincing as I sit up I try to work out the kinks in my neck, pulling my legs up so I'm no longer tangled up with Syaoran. Even in my half asleep state I know I need some breathing space, his proximity sometimes overwhelms me, and this is one of these times.

"You ok?" He asks, concern leaking though his soft tones.

I nod half heartedly as I slump back down, this time making sure to keep my feet to myself. The lines are getting more blurred between us and sometimes I feel myself craving his presence. He's been keeping me grounded and forcing me to face up to some of the things I tried to ignore, but he never pushes me beyond my limits and he never leaves me to face the thoughts alone. But it doesn't go both ways, I know that something happened to him and his family, but he seems so convinced he can save me that he won't share his history with me. Sometimes it really pisses me off – I'm an open book for him to read, he's a locked chest and I can't find the key. I really don't know where this friendship is going or what it's turning into, but it's starting to make me wary.

If I didn't need a place to stay so badly I think I would have already bolted, but it's not just the weird chemistry between us that worries me and I don't see the point in kidding myself that it is. I feel safe here, I don't have to worry about walking through a dodgy neighbourhood just to get home, or who's going to smash the windows in my car. For the first time since I got out of hospital I'm managing to sleep more than four hours most nights. Granted I still wake up at stupid o'clock in a panic, but I'm not constantly fighting my need to sleep.

So I guess, given the grand scheme of things, I'm happy, but more than a little confused. This friendship seems to cross boundaries, and I'm starting to admit that yea I do have feeling for him – but there is no way in hell that I would ever act on them. He's a self confessed playboy and I'm past the point in my life where I'll just jump into bed with someone. Sure once upon a time I would have gone willingly into a warm pair of arms to escape the loneliness, but I'm older and wiser now. The only way this infatuation will end is badly. I need to stay stood on my own two feet, keep my head above the water and make sure that this friendship doesn't get any more complicated than it already is.

* * *

**_Syaoran_**

I'm used to Sakura falling asleep on the sofa when we're watching TV. I'm used to her waking up looking panicked and scared. What I'm not used to is the way my heart constricts when I see that her panicking as she wakes. I'm not comfortable with this new found empathy. It's making things too complicated. But I can't stay away from her, and I sure as hell can't stand seeing her in pain.

Sakura's so absorbed in whatever she's thinking that she doesn't notice me moving next to her and pulling her into my arms. It's shit like this that's confusing me, but I can't help myself. When she looks lost I have to do something about it, no matter how against the grain it seems. My head has been screaming at me to keep my distance, to not get involved, but it seems impossible not to. I feel like I'm being pulled in two different directions. Eventually something's got to give.

"You looked sad," I say as she sinks into me and I rest my chin on her head. "Something you want to talk about?"

"Just thinking," She mumbles into my shirt. "Bit tired to boot."

I tense ever so slightly, I can tell when she's lying and this is one of those times. Part of me wants to push her into being honest, but I know if I push too hard she'll shut me out completely and we'll be back to square one.

"You know you can talk to me Sakura, doesn't matter what it's about, first and foremost I'm your friend, and if you've got some shit that's bothering you I would rather you tell me about it."

"I could say the same for you." She looks up at me, her emerald eyes boring a hole into me. I shift uncomfortably not sure what she's referring too.

"I don't know what you mean." My mouth is dry and trying to force the words out seems like a monumental effort.

"Bullshit, you spend so much time carrying around all this baggage that I know nothing about and you've somehow got it into your thick skull that you can carry all of mine around with you as well. You're only human Syaoran – you don't have to keep picking up the pieces of my life up behind me."

I sink into the sofa in relief. Thank God. For a horrible moment I thought she'd somehow read my mind and was about to call me out on the weird merry-go round of thoughts that I'd been chasing in my head.

"Don't know what you mean," I reply half-heartedly, already knowing that this is going to end up in an argument.

* * *

**_Sakura _**

Sometimes I think it would just be easier if I could smack him round the head and shout at him till I was blue in the face. But after our conversation the other week I know that's probably the last thing I should do, regardless of how badly I want to. I settle instead with shifting away from him and the distance gives me some much needed room to think.

"Look," I say hesitantly, trying to find the right words so that I don't sound like a bitch. "I'm not blind. Shit had to happen for you to end up in the foster system, and I know for a fact that the majority of foster-families aren't all sunshine and roses. It bugs me that you know pretty much everything about how I landed in care, but I haven't got a clue what happened to you. It just feels like you don't trust me or something."

I play with the ends of my hair as I say this, noticing the subtle changes in his posture that shows he's uncomfortable. "I'm not saying you have to tell me your life story or anything, but the same offer goes for you. If you want to talk about something then I'm happy to listen. And on that note I'm off to bed – it's been a long day." I start to stand, determined to run away and hide, when his hand grabs mine and pulls me back down so I'm sat next to him, my fingers still entangled with his.

"I grew up by the coast," he starts uncertainly. "My dad used to take me and my little sister down to the beach every weekend and we'd play in the water. When we got older dad took us out on the boat. Sometimes my mom would come with us and we'd spend the whole day out in the middle of the ocean as a family. Me and Sheifa grew up with water surrounding us, we were more like fish than people." He smiles weakly at the memories, his grip tightening around my fingers. "Then one day my whole world turned upside down. The three of them were in the car, on the way to see me play some stupid football game. They were blindsided by some drunk guy in a pickup. It forced them off the side of a cliff and their car plummeted into the ocean. All three of them died instantly and I knew nothing about it until after the game, when the police finally recovered the vehicle and the bodies inside it. The worst thing was I was so pissed at them for missing the game, I'd called them every name under the sun during half time and that whole time they were lying at the bottom of the ocean, dead."

He stops for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. I'm rendered speechless by his sudden decision to divulge his past because I said it felt like he didn't trust me, and I'm struggling to come to terms with the devastation he must have felt. I can't imagine loosing my family like that. Sure for all intensive purposes I don't have a family anymore, but my mom is still alive, she's still there if I want to see her. He takes a deep breath, his fingers tightening around mine, his thumb rubbing worried circles on my skin.

"The only person left to care for me was my grandmother, but she lived on the other side of the country far away from the sea. I had no choice, I had to move away from the place I'd grown up, from all my memories, all my friends and start new in again. It wasn't enough that I'd just lost the most important people in my life, I had to lose everything else as well. I was so angry all the time, at myself, at the idiot that pushed my family off the road and at my Grandmother for dragging me away from little I had left. So I got into fights, I started drinking, I spent more time sobering up in a cell than I did in the bed at my grandmothers. After two months she'd had enough and called social services, landing me in the foster system. And that hurt. I know I was a nightmare and I put her through hell, but that was the last person I had to depend on and she abandoned me."

His grip gets tighter, the anger evident as her describes how his gran abandoned him. My heart constricts at the thought of 15 year old Syaoran, hurting and out of control, being abandoned, dumped because she couldn't take care of him. I feel the tears roll down my face and I think about how, in some respects, his story is worse than mine.

Syaoran brings his hand up to my face, his thumb brushing away one of my tears. "This is why I didn't want to tell you, I knew you'd get upset by it. I've put it behind me, I was out of control and if she hadn't handed me over to the social then I would have ended up dead."

"But still," I argue weakly, "I ended up in the system because my mom was crazy. You ended up in there because the one person you had left couldn't look after you."

"Shit happens Sakura. And like I said if I'd stayed where I was I wouldn't be here today. So now you know my story and now you know I trust you." He looks straight at me, "loosing my parents was a tragedy, an accident that I couldn't have done anything about. I should have handled it better, but I was young and angry. It's nothing more than that, don't look any deeper than that – it is what it is."

I sigh, I know the conversation is at an end. But something still niggles at me, there's something that he's not telling me. But I can't call him out on it – after all there are things that I'm hiding from him too.

I say my goodnights, knowing that we're both talked out for the night. My mind is still spinning from the information overload and I curse myself for getting so involved. This is why I keep myself apart from others, once you start to learn their stories you feel sorry for them. And if you feel sorry for them that means you feel something towards them. I wish we could keep our distance from each other, but living in the same house makes it difficult and I know that if I don't get my head straight I'm heading for a world of hurt. I've been hurt by the people I love and trust enough in my life. It's easier not to relay on others and make sure that I can keep myself above water.

Throwing myself on my bed, I roll over so I'm lying on my back staring at the ceiling. Sleep will be a long time coming, but I can't spend the time in living room chasing sleep when Syaoran's still in there. So for now I'm left alone, spread eagle in the middle of my bed staring at the ceiling with just my thoughts for company. The problem is my thoughts are meaningless drivel, running round in circles like a puppy chasing its tail.

The problem is that I think I'm developing feelings for Syaoran, and I'm not too sure what to do with these feelings. I hate emotional attachment of any kind, even my connection to Eriol can be tenuous, and that was forged through years of him working past my defences. Syaoran however, he's somehow managed to worm his way round every wall I've ever put up. Made me to open up and talk where everyone else failed. Then there's the way my body reacts to his touch and that's the bit that really freaks me out.

When I was still in care going through what Eriol now lovingly refers to as my 'wild child' phase, which loosely translates to getting shit faced drunk every night in an attempt to forget, I was a bit of a slag. I'd throw myself into the nearest pair of willing arms, desperate to believe that someone else would be able to provide me with some comfort that would erase the emptiness I felt inside.

Nothing ever did though, it didn't matter how much I drank or how many people I threw myself at there was always the lingering sadness deep down. It got better when I met Eriol and started to straighten myself out, I felt better when I graduated high school without flunking out, and even better when I got a job at the garage and managed to make it a month without getting fired.

But through it all, there has always been an emptiness inside. It doesn't matter how much I've bettered myself or my life, there was always that void. Maybe it's because it was someone who unconditionally loved me that hurt me so badly, maybe it's because in some respects I still believe that I could have prevented this from happening. I roll over and bury my head in the pillow, wishing that it would stop the thoughts from running through my head. I can't discount what I'm thinking though and it's clear as day.

Since I've met Syaoran the loneliness has been kept at bay, and somehow it seems to be getting better.

* * *

AN: So there we go – there's some of Syaoran's story, but there's more to come from both of them.

Please R&R

dk


	10. Chapter 10

AN: as always massive thank you's to the people who reviewed (and the people now following the story). So quick shout out to **Fashion Fairy 26,** **Shay** and **Adelina Riverflow** for their reviews. And on a completely unrelated note - how the hell am I at chapter 10 already?!

**Damaged Goods**

** Chapter 10**

_**Sakura**_

Apparently trying to avoid the person you live with is harder to do that said. It doesn't matter how many hours I put in under the hood of a car, how long I hang out at Eriol and Tomoyo's or how many shots of tequila I sink at the bar - at the end of the day I still have to go home. So I try to leave as early as possible and slink in as late as I can - but I can't avoid him constantly, though it's not through lack of effort.

Unfortunately, the one thing I can't avoid is my need to shower - and after spending 11 hours at work there is no way I'm even going to entertain the though of crawling into bed without showering. I'm grateful that the apartment is empty when I practically crawl through the door, dead on my feet and smelling like the inside of a carburettor. My forced distance is creating a bit of tension in the house and I'm finding it easier just to just to lock myself in my room, listening to loud music and doing a bit of sketching. Something I've not done in years, and something I still suck at.

After scrubbing myself clean, I practically stumble out of the shower, my muscles screaming at the sudden movement as I climb out. Since the infamous me being sprawled wearing nothing but a microscopic bath towel incident, I splashed out and bought myself a robe that lives in the bathroom - I'm not being to be caught with my metaphorical pants around my ankles again.

Opening the bathroom door I stumble through the steam straight into Syaoran. Crap, so much for avoiding him. He catches me as I stumble backwards and my body again sings at the happiness of human contact. Stupid body doing what it wants when it wants without checking it through with my brain first!

"Hey Syaoran," I manage to force out sounding sheepish. "Not seen you in a few days, how are you doing?"

He flashes me a grin, and I know I'm in trouble just from the look he's just given me. "I'm good, why are you avoiding me."

I cringe at his direct approach. "I'm not avoiding you, I've just been really busy at work, making up for the time off I had last week." Even to my ears my excuses sound lame.

He lets it drop, but I see a flash of something akin to disappointment cross his face. I ignore it and sidestep past him. "I need to go get some clothes on before I freeze to death in the hallway."

"Ok, well I've put dinner in the oven so you should come out of the cave when you're dressed and we'll hang out for a bit. That is unless you're avoiding me?"

Bugger it, bloody man's got me there – there's no way I can feign an early night and lie there in the dark waiting for him to go to sleep so I can turn the light back on. I smile, making a non-committal grunt as I make my way to my room.

* * *

_**Syaoran**_

10 minutes after pretty much man-handling her into eating dinner with me and Sakura is dressed and on the recliner, still blatantly ignoring me. She's hiding behind the plate of food I handed her a few moments ago and doing everything to avoid making eye contact with me.

"So I'm guessing you're busy at work?" I ask, trying to jump start the conversation. She nods as she shovels more food in her mouth, something I think she's doing to avoid having to reply. I wait her out.

"Yea, just because it's the beginning of winter, everyone panics and brings their cars in to check that they'll make it through the winter." She states, leaving very little room to continue the conversation. "So it's all routine bollocks, just lots of it."

I nod in response and we lapse into yet more silence, neither of us really making any attempt to talk to each other. The weird thing is that the silence isn't entirely uncomfortable, which is now just frustrating the shit out of me. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place, either I say nothing and we continue limping along in this pseudo-friendship, or I bite the bullet and try and get her to talk to me. Which will invariably lead to an argument.

The crash of my plate as it hits the coffee table makes her jump and she shoots me with a glare that I returns in full force.

Sakura what the hell is going on?" I know I probably sound exasperated and ready to bounce my head off the table in frustration. "The last week you've completely avoided talking to me apart from saying hello and goodbye. I've managed to get you to sit in the same room as me for more than 5 minutes and you've spent the majority of the time chewing your nails, staring off into space and avoiding looking at me."

"Nothing's going on." She replies. "I'm just tired from all the hours I'm working at the garage and my brain doesn't feel like functioning around human company right now."

"Bullshit – something's bugging you and you're shutting me out. I thought we'd got past all this bollocks a couple of weeks ago." I know I'm raising my voice, but now I'm realising just how frustrated I am over this. We went from talking and hanging out every day to her flat out avoiding me with no reason. .

"I'm not shutting you out." She forces out through gritted teeth, her temper starting to bubble over. "Things are just a little weird right now and I needed some space to sort my head out."

"How are they weird Sakura? Seriously, apart from the fact that you've opened up to someone other than Eriol and you've managed to sleep more than a couple of hours a night. If anything I would say that's progress compared to where we were when you first moved in!"

"I'm not going to fight with you over nothing Syaoran." She shouts. "I'm going to bed, thanks for dinner." She storms off to her room, slamming the door behind her and I hear the lock click.

Well that could have gone better!

* * *

_**Sakura**_

_She's poised over me, anger streaking her grey eyes._

_"Please Mom," I plead, my voice thick with fear. " You don't know what you're doing, don't hurt me. It's me, Sakura, your baby girl."_

_The look in her eyes softens for a moment, and she uses a free hand to stroke my cheek. "I'm sorry my darling." She mutters. "It has to be this way; I have to set you free in order to get her back."_

_Out of the corner of my eye I see a flash of silver glinting in the half light that streams through the kitchen window. Time slows as my concussed brain tries to catch up with what's actually happening. She's lost it this time. There's no coming back from this, she means to kill me. I can see the knife clearly now, her intentions clear as day even in my confused mine. My arms feel like lead as I raise them up to protect myself._

_The first cut has me screaming in pain as time rights itself and moves at a faster pace. The burning sensation that spreads up my arm shocks me out of my thoughts and lands me back in the fucked up situation that I'm in. The first swipe of the knife has cut me clean from elbow to wrist, and the pain radiating up my arm is enough to make me want to throw up and then pass out._

_She's slashing at me again, another scream as the knife makes contact with my skin. I can feel the blood trickling down my arms and pray that somehow I'll manage to survive this. Struggling beneath her I manage to get some leverage with my feet but my socks slip on the floor, leaving me squirming with no footing. The pain in my arms is starting to dull and I can taste blood on my lips. My head is swimming with images and I wonder if this is my life flashing before my eyes?_

_Again it seems like time has slowed, it's still moving at the same speed, it's just my perception that's changed. I turn my head, looking over to the picture that's hanging on the wall. It was the family portrait that was taken a few weeks before my dad died, and one of the few pictures where my mother managed to force me into a dress. We look happier there, there's a lightness to mom's eyes that's been missing since he died and a happiness in my eyes that I don't think I'll ever find again. God I miss him so much and the thought sends the tears pooling in my eyes to overflow and mix with the blood that's not surrounding me. What am I doing? I should be fighting to get her off me, not surrendering like some little girl._

_I'm his little fighter._

_With that thought I manage to find purchase with my feet, ignoring the pain in my arms and the heaviness in my limbs as I let the adrenaline take over. Somehow I manage to dislodge her enough to make her pitch to the side, giving me the opportunity I need to get out from under her. My lungs are burning from the sudden exertion and my head is spinning from everything that's already happened. I stumble out of the kitchen, ignoring the black spots that cloud my vision, knowing that if I give into them it will be the last thing I ever do. I have to get out of here, I have to get out the front door so someone can see me._

_I lurch from wall to wall, the hallway narrowing as the adrenaline starts to abate. I can't give up fighting, not yet, I can see the front door, I'm so close to getting out, to getting help._

_And then I slip, in the same puddle of water I tracked in earlier that started this whole episode. Falling I barely have the energy to put my shredded arms out to brace my fall. My hands slip in a mixture of blood and water and I collapse where I land, unable to find the energy to get up and make it to the door that's less than 6 feet away._

_I can hear her storming through the hallway behind me, now she's on my back and I'm screaming for help, for someone to rescue me. My voice is hoarse and thick with the tears that now flow unashamedly down my face. I barely register the pain as she slices at my back, my brain starting to shut down in shock._

I'm still screaming as I wake up, just as Syaoran crashes through my locked bedroom door. I'm so caught up in the memory that I don't even notice his presence until he's crashing next to me on the bed. My scars are burning as my brain tries to convince me that it's not real, that it's just a memory and that I'm actually safe.

"Sakura, SAKURA" Syaoran's shouting, terror evident on his face as I try to pull myself back into the present. I've pulled my sleeves up, trying to convince myself that it's not real, that I don't have huge gaping lacerations all over my arms and that I'm not swimming in a pool of my own blood. I'm gasping, my breath coming in short quick bursts and I feel like I'm going to pass out.

Syaoran pulls me into his arms, positioning me so I'm cradled on him and tries to calm me down as I slowly descend back into reality. My heart is still racing but I've managed to steady my breathing enough to get some oxygen back into my starved brain. I can feel the solid warmth of Syaoran's chest as he holds me against him, the soft murmurings that make little to no sense to my addled brain, the low timbre of his voice soothing my frazzled nerves.

"What are you doing in here." I manage to force out through my chattering teeth. "You're not supposed to be in my room." Of all the things to say I can't believe that that's the first thing that comes to mind. I feel him tense up next to me as he realises he's broken one of the cardinal rules that I set down before I moved in.

"I'm sorry Sakura," he exhales slowly. "You were screaming bloody murder and I couldn't help myself, I had to check you were ok. Jesus I thought someone was trying to kill you!"

I manage a shaky laugh, "there are no monsters under the bed Syaoran, just the ones lurking in my mind." Against my better judgement I find myself snuggling into him more, the heat his body provides a distraction for my quivering body. "And you owe me a new lock!" I protest weekly.

He forces out a chuckle, "Sakura, I think you'll find I owe you a new door. What were you dreaming about or is it the same as usual. I've never heard you scream like that before."

The concern is evident in his voice and I know there's no way I can just brush this off as something normal. I don't normally get that far through the attack to remember that part, normally I wake up before I get to the memories of the pain that was inflicted upon me.

"More of the same," I mutter, "just more of it in its full Technicolor glory." I'm scratching my scars again, trying to convince myself that the itching isn't because my skin felt like it was on fire a few minutes ago.

"Stop scratching," Syaoran admonishes gently as he removes my hand with his, restraining me gently so I don't feel threatened. "You'll end up scratching a hole through yourself if you keep that up."

I'm too tired to fight with him right now, the adrenaline that kicked in when I woke up leaving as quickly as it appeared. I feel myself sag against him and my eyes start to droop before I force them back open. I can't fall asleep again, I'm too scared that the nightmare will continue, or worse just keep looping round and round the worst memory of my life. But my body is refusing to listen to my demands.

I'm half aware of Syaoran extracting me from his lap and putting me down so I'm lay on my side. I then feel the dip of the mattress as he climbs in next to me, wrapping is large arms around me. I should be pushing him off, I was supposed to be keeping my distance, but at the moment that's just not happening. I'm too tired to fight whatever it is that I'm feeling and before I know it I'm freefalling into the void that heralds sleep.

It's know it's early when I wake up from the weak shaft of light that's pushing its way through the gap in the curtains. It's too warm and I find myself trying to push the quilt off me and get some air, my sleep addled brain refusing to wake up. There's a comfortable weight on my stomach, the heat radiating from it confirming it's not the quilt. I shift slightly, forcing my eyes to open and take in the scene that surrounds me.

The first thing I notice is that my bedroom door is practically off its hinges and hanging loosely in the doorframe. Well I guess he wasn't joking when he said he owed me a new door and I roll my eyes at the excessive use of force to get through a locked door. Craning my neck round I can see what I'm assuming is Syaoran's arm slung over my midsection. Right now I should be freaking the fuck out, because this is a huge spanner in the works, but I'm actually too comfortable and relaxed to care.

His denim clad legs are entwined around me and I wonder how the hell he fell asleep still wearing his jeans. I manage to turn round so I can look at him properly without twisting my neck and my breath catches in my throat – he may still be wearing his jeans but that doesn't hold true for anything above the waistband. I can see the rippled muscles of his stomach and the smooth tanned skin crating a contrast between the pale tones of mine. But what I can see properly for the first time is the intricateness of his tattoos. Six birds trail up from his abs, their movement so lifelike that I half expect them to fly off into the early morning sunshine. His left arm has 3 stars, each with a name scrawled in beautiful cursive in the centre. I recognise them as his parents and his little sisters name.

"So I can always keep them close to me," Syaoran drawls and I jerk back embarrassed to be caught snooping. His moves his arm up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "And your bed is well comfier than mine!"

Just like that, he manages to dispel the awkwardness that was hovering over us and I find myself relaxing back into the pillows. Our legs are still tangled up and I know I need to get up and shower before I drag myself into work, but I'm so comfy and relaxed that I don't want to ruin the moment by extracting myself.

"What was she like?" I ask timidly, wondering what his past was like before his family were ripped out of his life.

"She was full of energy, and by that I mean she was constantly bouncing around, firing on all cylinders and driving me and my parents mad. She was the baby of the family even though there were only a few years between us, and because she was daddies little angel she got away with murder. If I skipped curfew I got my ass handed to me, if she did she'd somehow worm her way out of a grounding and make my parents forgive her." I stare at him, he seems relaxed and content to talk and I can't bear to interrupt him. "She was a constant pain in the ass, always trying to convince me that she was allowed to come out with me to parties or come out with me and my friends, but nevertheless she was one of my closest friends, knew all my secrets and always had my back when I was in trouble.

We lie there in silence for a moment, me mulling over the things in the universe that ended up throwing two broken souls together. My brain keeps telling me that I need to take a step back, that I need distance and that feeling sorry for the losses that both of us have suffered is futile and something that I should stop doing. But the empathic side of me wonders if maybe I have found someone that might be able to put up with all my crazy. I am starting to wonder just how long I can keep avoiding that little voice.

* * *

AN: so there we have it - a bit more on both their pasts. As always please R&R - reviews make me happy  
dk


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Somehow I've managed to make it to chapter 11 – and the end is in sight…..should only be a couple more chapters and that'll be it. Which makes me a little sad because I love this story and I love how they're both growing into these little people I made up in my head. But enough of the rambling (it's been a long day). So quick shout out to my wonderful reviewers - **Shay **(glad I made you a pile of fan-girl goo), **Fashion Fairy 26 **(things will get better…they might get worse first though), **littlepuppylost **(watch out for developments) and **girldancer001 **(here is the more you can't wait for)

So on with the show

**Damaged Goods**

**Chapter 11**

**Sakura**

I've been dragged out by Tomoyo and Eriol to celebrate them finally finishing college. The bass music from an unfamiliar song thrums through my veins, my heart pounding in time with the heavy drum beat. My hair is slicked back with sweat from all the dancing and mu head is spinning from the copious amounts of alcohol I've consumed in the last couple of hours. But right now, I'm having a good time, I feel free.

I toss back another shot with Syaoran and Eriol, Tomoyo has wisely decided that she is going to lay of the booze for a while and I 'm starting to wonder if I should do the same thing. But today I've decided to throw caution to the wind and I'm determained to have a good time, even if it involves me drinking a bottle of Jack just to get there. Tonight I won't let my insecurities rule me and I will be a girl out partying with her friends, nothing more and nothing less.

The club is heaving, normally I would be freaking out by now, but the alcohol is numbing my senses and I feel safe with Syaoran stood near me, making sure that people keep their distance from me. I can still feel the burn of the shot making its way down my throat when Eriol hands me another drink. And in time honoured keeping up with the boys tradition I down that one as well, even though I know I should have stopped several shots ago.

I can feel myself swaying slightly, part due to the music that refuses to let me stay still and the remainder due to the fact that the room has been spinning uncomfortably for the last 10 minutes. The small sensible part of my brain tells me I should stop drinking, that I don't have to keep up with the boys, but she gets ignored as another shot is handed to me.

More drinking and more swaying and now I'm starting to get uncomfortably drunk. I flew past my alcohol threshold about an hour ago and I'm starting to regret trying to play keep up. The music is too loud and the club is too hot.

"I need some air," I slur at Syaoran as I take off past him, stumbling through the club, pushing past the people that won't get out of my way. I don't care if people think I am a bitch right now, I just need to cool down and get out of here. Shoving my way through the crowd of people that have gathered by the door, I stumble out onto the sidewalk, the cold air hitting me like a thousand needles.

I make my way down the side of the club, my head swimming and my footing uneaven. Leaning against the wall I start to count to a hundred, determined that if I concentrate on something other than the nausea then I won't end up hurling thirty dollars worth of alcohol on the sidewalk. I manage to make it to fifty three before someone interrupts me.

"You ok love?" Someone slurs near me and my body automatically tenses up, ready for a fight. I turn to look at the person that has stopped to talk to me. He is probably a little older than I am and definitely in as drunk as I am. I relax against the wall, taking deep breaths to keep myself calm.

"I'm fine, just got too warm inside and needed some air." I manage to keep my words from slurring. "My mates are just waiting inside so I'll go back in when I've cooled down."

He nods, perceiving the warning in my words. "Yea, it's a little too warm in there." He looks at me shiftily and even though I am so drunk that remaining upright is a challenge, I am fully aware of the threat. He moves closer, so that he is leaning against the wall next to me, his arm brushing against mine. My brain is racing, my breathing has sped up and I know that I've probably done the worst thing in coming outside, on my own, whilst incapable of defending myself.

I start to edge away slightly, unfortunately I am now moving further back into the away from the main road. My heart is racing and I'm starting to feel really sick. Nothing like a little bit of danger to make you sober up quickly. But I'm in trouble, even though I'm thinking more clearly there is no way my body will respond to anything I tell it to do.

This is why I don't drink - especially to the extent of putting myself in stupid situations. Ok so he may not have any ill intentions toward me, but he's a stranger and for all I know could be an axe murderer. I snort at the thought, amazed that my brain is managing to keep up its sarcastic repertoire despite my drunken stupor. My snort turns into giggles that eventually turns into hysterics, and the whole time this guy is just looking at me like I'm a couple of fries short of a happy meal.

* * *

**_Syaoran_**

I swear to god when I find her I'm going to be tempted to beat the living shit out of her. I've been charging round this stupid club for the last 20 minutes looking for her, she's not in the toilets, even through I've had 3 different girls go in and look for her. She's not on the dance floor, she's not by the bar, so short of her having magically disappeared I'm going to make the assumption that she's either gone to get some air or she's buggered off home without telling anyone.

I'm so going to kill her when I get my hands on her.

I give up on looking inside the club and start looking outside, In the hope that she'll just pop up, out of thin air. My blood is boiling and I'd like to say it's cause I'm mad at her, but it's mainly because I'm so damned concerned about her. She was so wasted when I last saw her that I'm more than a little worried I'll find her collapsed in a pool of her own puke. Urg, I shouldn't have let her wander off on her own.

And then out the corner of my eye I see her, and my heart breathes a sigh of relief that she's not dead in a ditch. Then I spot the shady guy that's got her backed into a corner and her defensive stance and I see red.

"Sakura," I shout, running towards her. "What the hell are you doing down here." I look at her, and catch see the guy trying to make a hasty retreat back down the alley. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO HER?"

I'm ready to launch myself at the guy, I don't know if he's done anything, but given Sakura's uncomfortable and downright defensive stance I'm out for the guys blood.

"He didn't do anything." Sakura slurs as she slumps against the wall. I can feel the earlier adrenaline surge starting to wear off as I realise that she's not in danger. "I'm drunk and got a little hysterical but he didn't actually lay a finger on me."

She's gone from slumping against the wall to sliding down it, landing with a bump as her head lolls to one side. I roll my eyes, shaking my head at her inability to hold her alcohol. Bending down I pick her up, cradling her close. Her heart beats erratically against my chest, her head lolling against my shoulder. I sit her down on a low wall, supporting her shoulders as she hiccups from her recent attack of hysteria.

"Jesus Sakura, I think you just took five years off my life," I say shakily. "I know I should have cut you off earlier."

She peers up at me through a curtain of her hair, which for once is down an free. "You're not my mother Syaoran, you don't have the right to stop me drinking. I was just trying to have a good time."

I shake my head and move her hair out of her face. "Hun there's having a good time, and then there's getting yourself obliterated till you can't see straight. You are definitely experiencing the latter. Come on, we're going home." I hoist her up, slinging one arm over my shoulder and carrying the majority of her weight.

"What about Eriol and Tomoyo," She slurs. "They're still out having fun. I want to stay out and have fun with them

"Eriol and Tomoyo went home about 20 minutes ago. I have been looking for you the entire time." I shift her so I'm supporting her properly "You do know you vanished outside for some air about half an hour ago!"

She shakes her head and the movement causes her to pitch to one side. What should be a ten minute walk home takes a lot longer as I attempt to keep Sakura from weaving out into the middle of oncoming traffic, singing off key as we stumble towards the apartment.

* * *

**_Sakura_**

Today I am a happy drunk, and I know that tomorrow when I wake up I will feel like crap so for now I am determined to keep smiling and having a good time – even though the evening is over and we're on our way home. Syaoran ends up carrying me up the stairs because my brain and feet refuse to co-ordinate with the floor and I end up landing on my ass ass. I'm giggling like a loon and stumbling around the apartment, tripping over my own feet. I end up lying in the hallway on my back staring at the ceiling, unable to breathe because I am laughing so much. Syaoran's face hovers above mine; his features split by a massive grin at my giddiness as he gives me a hand to stand up.

I'm pressed close to him, my brain swimming as I try to stop laughing. His arms are wrapped around me, supporting me and stopping me from ending up back on the floor. I can feel the warmth from his body sleep through the layers of my clothes. Suddenly I am flustered and too hot and have to extract myself from his hold and wrestle off my sweater. I drop my sweater on the floor and sway slightly, the cool air hitting my skin. Syaoran's hands shoot out and steady me, his hands warm against my bare shoulders.

I look up at him, my hair falling in front of my face again, but I can still see him through the strands of hair. His amber eyes are watching me intently as I try to focus on him but fail miserably. There's a tension in the room that wasn't there a minute ago. He moves to brush my hair out of my face and I find myself leaning into his touch, small sparks travelling through my skin when his makes contact with mine.

My brain is trying to backpedal my drunken ass out of this situation, but I'm too far gone to pay any attention. Right now, I am in the moment, enjoying the human contact and knowing that in the morning, I can blame it on the alcohol and everything will be forgotten. But I'm going to enjoy this moment, I am going to enjoy the attraction that has been building between us for weeks and I am going to throw caution to the wind and let myself actually feel something for once.

I close my eyes, concentrating on the sensation of his fingers caressing my cheek as I lean further into his touch. I can feel my eyelids fluttering gently, the tips of my lashes catching the top of my cheeks. My breathing is soft and steady, but my heart is pounding in my chest and I can feel the warmth of my blush spreading across my skin. I am scared to open my eyes in case I lose this moment, preferring to hide behind my closed lids than realise that I have made a mistake.

My body reacts to his touch, my right hand coming up to cup the hand that is caressing my cheek, my other hand carelessly slung over his shoulder. I am lost in the moment as I feel myself inching towards him, desperate for some human contact on my bare skins. My body makes contact with his, the warmth spreading though my skin and against my wishes, my eyes flutter open, making direct contact with his.

His eyes are stormy, lidded and uncertain. I can see passion lurking in there, but also fear and I know that my eyes will look similar. We both stand there, frozen in time, staring at each other as if we have never seen the other before. I feel the heat from his gaze, but I refuse to back down, I won't be the first to look away, even though staring at him this closely is making me slightly uncomfortable.

His hand is still caressing my cheek, my fingers entwined with his. I'm not sure if he is guiding me to him, or if I'm dragging him towards me but we are now so close that our noses touch. I have lost focus on his eyes, but I can still feel his gaze on me. I chew on my bottom lit, trying not to show him how uncomfortable I feel, I feel hot and light headed, months of tension breaking upon me in waves of emotion.

I can't tell you who makes the first move, it could be either one of us or both of us moving in at the same time, but his lips touch mine and all coherent thought leaves my brain. His lips are soft and warm, pushing against mine gently, coaxing me into kissing him.

I yield against him, even though I can hear my brain screaming at me to take a step back and actually think about this. I can feel the heat in my face as he deepens his kiss, his tongue gently probing me into opening my mouth. The hand that was caressing my cheek is now entwined in my hair, his other arm wrapped around my waist holding me close to him and keeping me uprights. I sag against him as I let him deepen the kiss. My legs turn to jelly as the kiss intensifies, a bolt of white hot lust shooting through me. My arms are entwined around his neck and I press myself in closer to him, desperate for the skin on skin contact. He holds me to him closer, backing me up so that I am leaning against the wall with him pressed up against me.

I break away, my brain sluggishly responding to my commands as I suck in a huge breath of air. Syaoran rests his chin on my shoulder, his forehead leaning against the wall. I can feel my heart pounding with his, both of us unsure what to do next, neither of us willing to move away from the other.

"Sakura," Syaoran starts, the pregnant pause in his words making me open my eyes with a snap. "Are you ok?"

As soon at the words are out of his mouth, the nausea starts up again. I disentangle myself from our embrace and stumble through to the bathroom, making it just before the evenings drinks make a re-appearance. I throw up until there is nothing left and slump against the toilet. Exhausted I close my eyes and let sleep overcome me.

* * *

AN: And finally they kiss…..finally

dk


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